


Miraculeux

by redhoodedwolf



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alive Talia Hale, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Based off of the origin episodes, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug AU, POV Third Person, Secret Identity, but set to sterek, shifting pov, spoilers for the origin episodes 25/26, swearing only in french, there's a good bit of french in here please don't hate me, they are all in France
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoodedwolf/pseuds/redhoodedwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story in which Stiles is basically Spider-Man, but not. And Derek is basically a werewolf, but not. And they live in France.<br/>*<br/>My name is Stiles. A guy like every other. But when fate picked me to fight against evil forces, I became Miraculous Ladybug!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ladybug and Loup Noir Origins- Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> so uh I got into Miraculous Ladybug this week, finished in two days, then decided that it could be stereked and wrote that in two days.  
> There's lots of French in here, so disclaimer that I am super American and do not speak it so I apologize if to any native speakers it sounds really bad and cringe-worthy. Shoutout to brisby-pops on tumblr for answering some of my French worries. But yeah all French mistakes are mine so sorry??  
> I put an index in with the end notes so that all of the translations are available.

            The jarring blaring of his alarm clock violently awoke Stiles, and the 17-year-old flailed out of bed and almost hit the floor. He groaned in distaste at being awake.

            “Stiles! You’re going to be late for your first day! Hurry up!” his _père_ shouted from a floor down.

            Stiles groaned even louder in response, only earning a chuckle from his unsympathetic père.

            Stiles wrestled with his blue blankets for a moment before finally pushing himself out of bed. He stretched his mole-spotted arms up over his head to work out a kink in his back, and he sighed and relaxed when it cracked.

            After getting dressed and prepared for the day, Stiles snagged his backpack from his desk chair and carefully walked down the stairs from his loft bedroom, closing the trapdoor behind him, making sure not to bran his head on it this time.

            Stiles slipped into the kitchen and settled himself on a stool at the breakfast bar, groggily reaching for the milk carton to fill the bowl his père had placed out for him.

            Speaking of his père. The _commissaire de police_ for their city of _Balise de Collines_ came up behind his _fils_ and rubbed a hand through his hair. Stiles smacked it away with one hand while shoveling cereal into his mouth with the other, silver spoon locked between his lips.

            “I don’t want to get any calls saying you were late,” his père warned as he began to head for the door.

            “You won’t!” Stiles promised, a little whine in his voice. “I’m 17, _Papa_. I’m in my last year of _lycée_ , can’t you trust me?”

            The commissary winked at his fils. “We’ll see,” he responded cryptically.

            He walked back over to give his fils one last quick hug, which Stiles easily melted into, before he was out the door and gone.

            Stiles finished up his breakfast quickly after checking his phone and noting that he only had fifteen minutes to get to _école_ before the first bell rang.

            Stiles threw the bowl into the sink, deciding that he would just clean it after, before snagging his backpack from where he’d dumped it on the couch and running out the front door and locking it swiftly behind him.

            As he jogged down the sidewalk towards the road, he almost ran directly into a speeding past car and tumbled into a pole on his left from the force of his flinch backwards. He winced, just then looking up to see the red light indicating that he wasn’t allowed to cross yet.

            But he wasn’t the only one who had missed the memo. An older man with a cane was slowly inching towards Stiles’ end of the sidewalk. Stiles heard a car horn, and his gaze shot up to see a car speeding closer and closer. They wouldn’t be able to hit the brakes on time, Stiles realized with a jolt of horror.

            Not wanting to witness a death on his way to the first last day of lycée (what a bad-luck omen that would be!), he quickly reached out and pulled the startled man to safety, just as the car sped past, brakes squealing as they went. The man fell into him at Stiles’ sudden pull, and they both fell to the ground. Ironically, the pedestrian sign blinked green right at that moment.

            Stiles helped the old man to stand, brushing off his thanks. “It’s fine,” he replied, slightly out of breath from the fall. The pedestrian sign began blinking, a warning that the time to cross was ending soon. “I have to get going. Hope you’re alright. Have a good day!” Stiles shouted behind him as he raced across the street before he was forced to wait another few minutes before he was granted safe passage again.

            With his back turned, totally focused on getting to the _institut_ , Stiles didn’t notice the old man whip the cane up and around his shoulder and walk off with ease, hand playing with something in his pocket.

            Stiles raced into the institut just as the bell rang, and he consulted his phone to see what room he was in for his first class. He silently hoped that Jackson Whittemore wasn’t in his class this year. He really was tired of dealing with that _connard_.

            He stumbled into the room just as the _professeur_ was assigning seats. She didn’t seem to pay Stiles any attention, pointing out a boy in the back of the room and ushering him to sit in the front row. Stiles winced sympathetically and took the same seat he’d sat in last year and become comfortable with; second row, left side of the room, middle aisle seat.

            Unfortunately, as soon as he got seated and started pulling out a notebook from his backpack, a hand slammed down on the table in front of him. Stiles followed it up to see the sneering face of Jackson, with his _copine_ , Lydia Martin, standing behind him nonchalantly, popping her gum.

            “Stiles Stilinski,” the other boy greeted, smirking. “You’re in my seat.”

            Stiles raised an eyebrow trying to appear unfazed, but his shoulders were hunched up around his ears defensively. “I’ve always sat here,” Stiles tried to say without stuttering. He mostly succeeded.

            Lydia piped up, addressing Stiles for the first time in six months (not that Stiles was counting, or anything). “It’s a new semester, changing seats is normally what happens.” She walked around the tables and took a seat on Stiles’ left, staking her claim on the table.

            Stiles sighed, head dropping. He admitted defeat. He wasn’t about to fight the smartest girl in the entire école.

            Jackson nodded his head over towards the right side of the room where a seat was open in the front row. “Why don’t you go sit next to the new kid?” he suggested.

            The other guy at the desk snapped his head up and narrowed his eyes at Jackson.

            Stiles swallowed thickly. “But—“

            “Look,” Jackson cut him off. “Derek is starting today, and is assigned to sit right there.” He pointed to the two empty spots at the table in front of them. “So I’m going to sit here.” He slammed his hand down onto the table again, and Stiles suppressed a flinch. “Got it, Stilinski?”

            Stiles was too stunned to say anything but, “Who’s Derek?”

            Lydia arched an unimpressed eyebrow at his lack of knowledge, whereas Jackson full-out laughed in his face.

            “How do you not know who Derek is?” Jackson spat at him. “Have you been living under a rock?”

            Stiles just blinked slowly in response.

            Lydia seemed to take pity on him and got Stiles’ attention by saying, “Derek _Hale_. As in the Hale family.”

            Stiles was still lost, though the name did sound oddly familiar.

            “He’s my _meilleur ami_ ,” Jackson boasted. “So what are you still doing here?”

            Stiles jumped in surprise when a voice from behind Jackson asked, “Hey, what gives you the right to talk to a person like that?”

            Stiles looked up to see the new kid standing right next to the table, arms crossed. In his hand he held some sort of rectangle made of plastic, and it took Stiles a moment to realize it was an inhaler.

            Jackson recovered quickly from the surprise guest and smirked. “Ooh, look. Looks like we’ve got a new hero in class. Wheezy Boy!”

            Lydia rolled her eyes at her _copain_ ’s antics but said nothing. Stiles’ hands clenched on top of the table.

            Jackson continued. “What are you going to do about it, Wheezy?”

            The boy pursed his lips and tightened his grasp on the inhaler. He huffed out a breath before his eyes snapped over to Stiles. “Let’s go,” he ordered.

            Stiles was too surprised not to oblige, shoving past Jackson with a shoulder as he snagged his backpack and followed the other boy to the front of the room. Jackson made an angry noise from behind him, but then Lydia mumbled something and the growling ceased.

            Stiles slid into the seat after the other boy, placing his backpack on top of the table. The professeur tried to gather the class’ attention, but Stiles was paying attention to the boy instead.

            “He’s not worth it,” the boy muttered, shooting a smile at Stiles. “Can’t let him win and get the best of you.”

            “I’m not sure I can do that,” Stiles confessed. “Jackson has had it out for me since we were in _école primaire_.”

            “Well, if you don’t let him and fight back, maybe he’ll stop,” the boy suggested.

            Stiles grinned and held out a hand, liking the boy’s moxy. “I’m Stiles.”

            The other boy grinned and shook Stiles’ hand. “Scott.”

            The professeur was finally able to capture the class’ attention as she wrote her name up on the board, and the noise in the room settled to a soft hum.

            “Bonjor. I am Mademoiselle Morrell, your homeroom professeur.”

            Stiles’ eyes strayed to the empty desk to his left where the famous Derek was supposed to sit. Stiles idly wondered if he was even real, or if Jackson had finally cracked.

*

            Derek mentally cursed as he heard the car following him as he bolted down the street, wiping sweat off of his face and scratching a hand through his facial scruff. He hoped he looked presentable enough. The institut was so close, if only he could reach the entrance, then maybe he could get away with—

            “Derek!”

            Derek halted on the steps of the institut and winced at Laura’s harsh voice. He turned towards her slowly.

            “Think of _Maman_ and her wishes,” Laura commanded.

            Derek clenched his jaw. “What about _my_ wishes?!” he shouted.

            He turned his back on his _sœur_ , about to race up the steps and into the building, no matter what his sœur thought. His steps faltered, however, when he heard someone groaning in pain.

            Derek whipped his head around to see an old man who must have fallen on the sidewalk, cane out of his reach. Derek bypassed his sœur and jogged over to the man, handing him his cane and helping him back onto his feet. The man gave him a warm smile in thanks. Derek was about to ask if he was alright, but Laura interrupted him.

            “Derek!”

            Derek’s expression turned stormy. He nodded at the man before he slumped back over to where Laura was standing, foot tapping, unimpressed.

            “What’s so wrong with wanting to go to école like everyone else? Don’t you want to?” Derek asked her, a desperate last-ditch attempt.

            Laura gave no answer, just began to steer her _frère_ back to the car.

            Derek sighed and ducked his head. “Please don’t tell Maman.”

            As the car drove away from the curb, leaving the institut behind, the old man smiled as it passed and then turned on his heel and walked the other direction with ease.

*

            The bell rang, prompting all of the _élèves_ in Mlle Morrell’s class to stand and gather their belongings. As the professeur began to talk about where the élèves in PE were to go next, Isaac Lahey reached across the aisle to Vernon Boyd and handed him a note.

            Boyd took it, eyes narrowed at the curly-haired blond in suspicion, before pausing to read it. As soon as his eyes scanned the page, he gritted his teeth and crumpled the paper beneath his hand.

            “Isaac,” the larger boy growled, looming over his _ami_ who winced, realizing he’d done something to irritate Boyd.

            “Boys,” Mlle Morrell warned, catching their attention. “I do not tolerate fighting in my classroom.”

            Boyd glanced down to see his hand clenched in a fist around the crumpled note and realized it looked like he was going to hit Isaac.

            “Isaac was just annoying me, Mlle,” Boyd addressed his professeur before turning to Isaac. “Now you better drop it or else,” he hissed under his breath.

            But Mlle caught it and ordered, “Boyd! Go to the principal’s office. Maybe there you can calm down.”

            Boyd felt his face flame up as a few élèves behind him began to titter, and his fist tightened even further. He ripped his backpack off of his seat and stomped out of the room, leaving a contrite Isaac behind.

*

            Across Balise de Collines, in a tall high-rise building, a skylight opened, lighting up an otherwise dark room. In the center of the room stood a woman covered head to toe in gray garments. Her bodysuit clung to her skin, wrapping around each arm and leg, and flowing over her face in a mask that only broke with a small hole in the back for her ponytail to flow through.

            Argent caressed the weapon in her right hand with the left, silver fingers toying with the bow’s string. The quiver on her back felt heavy, and the woman’s eyes snapped up to the skylight that opened the city right in front of her.

            “Ah, teenage angst. I can practically feel it from here.” Argent scoffed, reaching behind her to free an arrow from the quiver. She caressed the tip of the silver arrowhead absentmindedly as she focused her powers on narrowing the focus of her shot.

            “A good starting point to create destruction,” she thought aloud, grinning widely. “The perfect situation for my arrow to fly and take over.” As soon as she cupped a hand over the arrowhead, her magic seeped into it, turning the arrowhead black as night.

            She took aim, pointing the arrow towards the small open window in the skylight, and pushed her power into the pullback of the bow, commanding it to fly and hit its target. She let go and watched it arc over the city and out of view.

*

            Boyd ducked out of view of a group of passing élèves before stepping into the principal’s office. The principal’s head shot up at the sudden noise of the door opening, and he narrowed his eyes at the tall black boy. “Don’t you know it’s proper etiquette to knock before entering a room?” the man asked, an eyebrow arching. “Try it again.”

            Boyd took a steadying breath, trying to keep the anger at bay. He nodded shortly before slamming the door closed behind him as soon as he was back out in the hallway.

            Boyd turned back to face the door, hand raising to knock, but just as he did, an arrow pierced the balled-up note in his other fist, its magic dissolving into the paper, as if the arrow never existed. The boy stilled.

            Boyd looked straight ahead, and between one blink and the next, a shadow covered his eyes. A voice spoke to him, almost as if they were in his head, whispering in his ear.

            “Stoneheart,” the voice addressed him. “My name is Argent. I am offering you the strength to fight back against those who have wronged you.”

            Boyd’s eyes narrowed, overtaken by the magic. “I will do as you ask, Argent,” he murmured. The shadow continued to cover not just his eyes, but soon his entire body was engulfed in what appeared to be black, cracking smoke.

            Back inside the office, the principal was waiting for Boyd to come back in. After a full minute of silence, he shouted, “What are you waiting for out there?”

            Then, the door broke open, and a stone creature as tall as the room with glowing yellow eyes forced its way into the room, yelling, “ISAAAAAC!”

            The principal whimpered and ducked under his desk for protection.

*

            Because PE wasn’t on Stiles’ schedule for the first day, he and Scott had gone to the _bibliothèque_ when Mlle Morrell had dismissed them. He and Scott had taken a spot at a table between the large wooden shelves of books, and they’d been getting to know each other better for the past five minutes.

            Scott had been telling Stiles about how he and his _mère_ were new to Balise de Collines, having moved from Paris after his mère and père divorced. His mère had started a new job at the _hôpital_ as the _infirmière en chef_. Stiles had begun to explain what his own père’s job as a commissary entailed, at Scott curiosity, but a loud rumbling noise cut off his words.

            Suddenly, the room began to shake, and Scott dragged Stiles to the ground with him when the other élèves in the room began to shout and scream in terror. A group of kids rushed over to the part of the room where monitors were set up. They displayed videos of several parts of the institut. Scott and Stiles jogged over to join them after the shaking had stopped, and Stiles heard someone mumble something about seeing Boyd do… something.

            Suddenly a large figure appeared on the monitor that displayed the front entrance of the institut, as if it had jumped from a tall height. Its weight and sudden appearance cracked the sidewalk where it landed. The monster threw its head back and yelled a name. Isaac’s.

            Stiles snapped to attention. He’d heard that same voice yell Isaac’s name many times over the years. The two had grown up together, as amis, so Stiles had heard the many different ways Isaac’s voice would be said, especially by Boyd. Stiles’ hands began to shake. “What… that’s Boyd’s voice. But how—?”

            Stiles looked over to Scott whose eyes were wide as saucers, but a large grin was on his face. Before Stiles could ask what was the matter with him, Scott burst out, astonished, “It’s a supervillain just like in the movies!” He grinned at Stiles. “I’m going to chance after it. I want to blog about all of this!”

            Scott raced towards the bibliothèque’s doors, and Stiles shouted at him to wait. “What are you doing? What’s the plan?!”

            Scott grinned, brown eyes shining. “Where there’s a villain, there’s always a hero. And I’ve always wanted to meet a hero.”

            Scott disappeared through the tall wooden double doors, and the silence in the room surrounded Stiles. It seemed as if he was the only one who’d stuck around.

            His eyes were drawn back towards the monitors, and he watched as the large stone creature stepped out into the road, blocking a car’s path. The inhabitants of the car fled in terror, and thankfully too, because the monster picked up the car like it weighed nothing and threw it towards the institut, shattering the camera, and cutting off the footage.

            Stiles recoiled and flinched back as if the car had been thrown at him. His breathing became ragged and he suddenly wished Scott was here so that he could take a puff of his inhaler. Instead, Stiles experienced his panic attack alone on the floor beneath a glitching monitor screen.

*

            Derek’s muscles hadn’t relaxed since his sœur had dragged him back to their _maison_. He sat himself at the long kitchen table, fingers tapping a rhythm over the wood surface. As she paced around him, Laura quizzed him on questions for their next _école à la maison_ exam, citing that helping him study helped her to learn the material too.

            “How about a break, eh Laura?”

            Derek’s head snapped up, gaze falling on Maman as she walked through the doorway. Her posture was relaxed, but the steely look in her eyes spoke otherwise. Derek swallowed thickly.

            Laura took that as a dismissal and fled the room, ruffling her frère’s hair as she passed. Before she could get all the way out of the room, Talia Hale spoke up, halting her _fille_ ’s steps.

            “If I remember correctly, I told you that you were not allowed to attend école.”

            Derek shot a betrayed look towards his twin sœur, and she ducked her head in shame.

            Derek stood, chair squeaking harshly against the floors as it was pushed back. “But Maman!”

            “You have the same level of education here, at maison. What’s the point?” Talia asked him, stepping forward. Laura finally made her escape. Talia’s face darkened. “I told you specifically not to leave the estate.”

            “Why?” Derek wailed, realizing that he may sound like a child but he believed it was justified. “What’s so dangerous about it? Why can’t I go out and make _amis_ like everyone else does? Why do I have to be stuck at maison?”

            “You are not everyone else,” his mère snapped. “You are my fils.”

            A tense silence filled the room, and Talia turned on her heel and left without another word.

            As soon as she was gone, Derek escaped the tense atmosphere as well, running for his room, bypassing Laura’s reach and attempt of an apology as he passed her in the hallway.

            As soon as he got into his room, he threw his école things over towards his desk and collapsed dramatically onto his bed, biting back the urge to scream into his pillows.

            At first, Derek thought that the shaking of the room was his own imagination, something he’d dreamt up to match the anger he felt bubbling up inside of him, but then he could hear loud booming noises from outside. He rushed form his bed, almost getting tangled in the black sheets, and ran towards his bedroom’s balcony where he could look out over the front of the estate. Nothing initially appeared amiss, but then he spotted the three police cars stationed right outside of his maison’s gate. Usually there was only one.

            Then, a shadow encased the street, and Derek looked up to see what he could only describe as a giant rock monster towering over the poor police as they stood their ground, guns drawn.

            One of the officers stood on the hood of one of the cars. Derek could distantly hear him counting down, and once the man shouted, “Fire!” every officer stationed began to shoot.

            It seemed to faze the creature for only a second, and Derek felt a burst of hope, but then a bright light encased it and the monster suddenly grew even larger. Derek’s eyes widened and his fingers clutched the railing of his balcony in terror, hope shattered. The monster raced towards the officers, forcing them to scatter. It picked up one of the police vehicles and threw it. Derek ducked away before he could see what it hit and instead leaped towards his television. He flopped onto his bed as he reached for the remote to turn the news on.

            A BREAKING NEWS broadcast was on every channel, and Derek watched as the _maire_ addressed the city. “We are urging everyone to stay in their maison until the police can contain the danger,” Maire Whittemore stated, his name flashing up at the bottom of the screen, not that Derek or anyone in Balise de Collines needed a reminder of who he was.

            A newscaster minimized the interview and began showing pictures of the creature on screen as she said, “This is certainly looking like something from right out of a movie. And it appears that the police are even having trouble.”

*

            “Do not worry,” Stiles watched and heard his père tell the newscaster. “We will find a way to contain this monster. We will keep everyone in this city safe.”

            Stiles gripped tightly the armrests on his desk chair. There was a bruise starting to form around his père’s temple, and Stiles was really beginning to worry about him.

            His père had phoned him as soon as Stiles had gotten back to his maison, finally recovered from his panic attack, and told him to stay inside and let him know if anything around there happens, and to stay safe. _“Je t'aime mon fils.”_

Stiles tried his best to ignore the bad feeling he got. He knew the first day back at école would be bad, but he’d never thought it would be bad like this. That creature was Boyd. Something had happened to turn the shy, overweight, lonely boy into a monster; a villain.

            Something out of the corner of his eye caught Stiles’ attention. He turned to look down at his desk and spotted a small box, one he’d never seen before.

            Stiles blinked and rubbed his eyes, but when he opened them again the box was still there. He hesitantly reached out for it, wondering aloud, “What’s something like this doing in my room?”

            Unbeknownst to Stiles, across town, Derek was having the same experience. An identical box caught the boy’s attention and he reached for it curiously.

            They both opened their boxes and were suddenly blinded when balls of light shot out of them, floating in the air right in front of their faces.

            Stiles recoiled, throwing the box away without even seeing what was in it, falling out of his desk chair and onto the floor. But the rose ball of light followed him and only seemed to glow brighter as the seconds passed. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut until the light was gone, and then he blinked them open slowly, only to come face to face with a… thing.

            Stiles shouted, leaping to his feet and backing away. The floating red huge bug thing was smiling at him with its bright blue eyes, but Stiles wasn’t one to be deceived. Even though it couldn’t be any bigger than his hand, he still continued to back away. “What is that!?” he shouted to the universe.

            And then it began to speak. A high-pitched voice came from the tiny monster, urging, “Please, calm down! There’s no need to be scared.”

            Stiles felt his back hit his bookshelf, and without anything better to use as a weapon, he began throwing numerous books at the thing.

*

            Derek reacted a little bit better. He’d shielded his eyes from the grass green light, at first, but then his curiosity got the better of him and his eyes widened as the light shone even brighter before dimming and revealing a floating animal. It looked like a tiny wolf, with its black fur (?) and thick bushy tail and twitching ears. It yawned and stretched as if it had just woken up from a nap, and locked its bright green eyes on Derek.

            “Um,” Derek squeaked. “Are you, like, a genie in a bottle? Er, box?” Derek poked out a finger and leaned forward to touch the thing, but it recoiled before Derek made contact.

            And then it spoke.

            “What a blow to my pride,” it commented, sounding offended. “Me? A genie? Pfft. I’m Plagg. Nice to meet you—Oh! What’s this?”

            Plagg, apparently, flew away towards something on the other side of the room, and Derek watched him go, fascinated. Plagg landed on Derek’s foosball table and began gnawing on one of the “player’s” heads.

            “Hey! Stop that!” Derek scolded, jogging over. But before Derek could reach him, Plagg flew off in another direction.

            Derek chased the tiny flying wolf all around the room as it tried to eat various products and things Derek possessed.

*

            Stiles wasn’t having much better luck with his floating creature. He was almost out of books to throw.

            “Stiles!” the thing shouted, halting Stiles’ actions. He dropped his last book to the floor and pressed his back against the wall as the large bug began to approach him, talking quickly in its high-pitched voice. “I know how weird this must be for you.”

            Stiles reached for a commemorative plastic cup he had been utilizing as a bookend on one of the shelves and used it to trap the bug between the cup and the floor. He grinned victoriously.

            The tiny thing seemed to lose some of its steam, and it didn’t try to escape. “If this is easier for you, then fine,” it conceded.

            “How do you know my name?” Stiles demanded, first off.

            Its voice was slightly muffled, but Stiles could still make out the words when it spoke. “I’m a kwami. My name is Tikki!”

            Stiles blinked, astounded, at the tiny kwami.

            Tikki seemed happy with his silence and continued, saying, “Now, let me explain things to you.”

*

            Plagg was not doing his job with Derek because he was too busy chewing on the television remote. Luckily, the kwami’s pause allowed Derek to leap across the room and capture him into his hands.

            “Can you please say something of use so that I can figure out what is going on?” Derek growled at Plagg.

            Plagg looked at him with some kind of a smirk. “I’m a kwami and I give you the best power ever. Destruction. Is that a good enough explanation?”

            Derek’s unimpressed look spoke volumes, but Derek voiced his confusion as well with a simple, “No.”

            Plagg deflated in Derek’s hands. “Fine. But at least give me something to eat first. I’m starving.”

            Derek examined the “kwami”, bringing it closer to his face. “You were planted by my mère, weren’t you?” he accused. Derek shook his head a second later. “No, never mind, she’s not one to pull pranks. Maybe Laura…”

            Plagg escaped Derek’s grasp when it loosened minutely and he crossed his tiny arms across his tiny chest. “You’re not to say a word about me to your mère, okay? Or anyone, for that matter.”

*

            Meanwhile, Stiles heard the front door open and shut and his père shout a greeting, and Stiles sprung for the trap door, shouting a desperate, “Papa!”

            Tikki managed to somehow escape her cup-prison and flew over to where Stiles was lifting the door. “No! Shh, please don’t. I’m on your side! Please believe me! You’re the only one who can stop Stoneheart!”

            Stiles eyes widened and he dropped the trapdoor closed out of shock. The boy shook his head, sitting back on his haunches. “There must be some kind of mistake. I’m not good at anything but tripping over things and being a general spaz.” Suddenly, Stiles remembered Scott and his wide-eyed wonder. “Wait! Scott might know something! He seemed super excited about the prospect of superheroes and villains and stuff. He’d be much better at this than me, you should go to Scott!” he urged Tikki.

            “Stiles!” Tikki chastised, flying up so that she was directly in front of his face. He flinched back. “ _You_ are the chosen one!”

*

            Derek was having a crisis of his own. “I’m not allowed to go to école, I’m barely allowed to leave my own maison for anything, I have no amis, and yet you expect me to be some sort of superhero?!”

            Plagg rolled his eyes at Derek as he munched down on some red, raw meet that Derek had snuck out of the kitchen. “If you become a hero, then you can leave whenever you wa~ant,” he sang. “If you think you have the heart to do it, then do it!” Plagg encouraged.

            Derek looked down at the box in his hand and plucked the simple black ring from its seat. It’s a miraculous, according to Plagg. Something to give him powers. He rolled it around in his palm, fingered over every edge and curve, but it was just a plain ring.

*

            In Stiles’ hand was his miraculous: a surprisingly beautiful ear cuff with two red stones encased in curved copper metal. Tikki had pointed the box housing the ear cuff out to him, and he fondled the jewelry piece for a second before figuring out how to attach it to the curve of his ear.

            “So, what you’re telling me, is that the evil inside of Boyd—“

            “The akuma.”

            “—Right, akuma, whatever. The akuma is inside of some objet he possesses. And I just have to… break the object and release the evil?”

            “It’s a black arrow. You have to neutralize it. Once you do that, Boyd will turn back to his normal self and not remember anything that he did,” Tikki confirmed for him.

            “Okay, so I capture it, and then, what, I use a charm?”

            “Lucky Charm!” Tikki squealed. “It’s your secret weapon.”

            Stiles sighed and collapsed onto his bed. “All of these things are so confusing, there’s too many! I don’t know, Tikki. I really don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

            Tikki hovered over his face and patted his cheek with a hand. It felt like being touched by a felt stuffed animal. It felt oddly good. “If you believe in yourself, then you can do it. Just say, “

 _Transformer moi_!””

            Stiles blinked and sat up. “Transformer moi?”

            Stiles was suddenly sprung to his feet as Tikki grinned widely at him and suddenly disappeared, sucked into the ear cuff he was wearing.

            Stiles shouted, “What’s happening?” but got no response from Tikki or anyone otherwise.

            A tingling sensation enveloped Stiles’ entire body, and at risk of falling into a panic attack for the second time today, Stiles forced himself to relax.

            The sensation started on the cusp his ear and spread across his face, and Stiles reached up to feel a mask covering his eye-area. From there, his fingers began to zing, and he brought them up to his eyes and watched as a red, synthetic-elastic material grew over his fingers and spread down his arms, over his chest and down his legs to cover his feet. It clung to his skin tightly, allowing every curve of his body that he normally hid unfer many layers of clothes to be exposed. The suit was a bright red color littered with perfectly circular black dots. Stiles suspected the mask looked the same. A weight settled on his hip, and Stiles looked down to see a black and red belt clinched across his hips, a circular pouch on the side. The ear cuff had gained little black dots as well, five each on both red stones. Stiles felt his ear tingle, almost as if Tikki was laughing at him.

*

            Derek stared down at the ring in his hand and steeled his resolve. He slipped it onto his right ring finger as Plagg instructed him how to access his powers. “You say, “Transformer moi!” just like that.”

            “Got it,” Derek responded, and a grin broke out across his face. He was ready for freedom. “Plagg, transformer moi!”

            Plagg’s eyes widened as he was being sucked into the ring, and he shouted, “Wait, I didn’t get to finish explaining everything!”

            The shout died as the transformation took over Derek, and he felt like his entire body had been jolted with a bolt of electricity. He blinked, and felt a mask materialize over his eyes that suddenly make his vision sharper. His nails tingled, and when Derek looked he saw black leather flow up his body, covering every inch of his hands, but at the tip of each finger there was a sharp claw. He shook his head and felt the fabric ears that stuck out from his dark locks twitch, and a presence at his back made him distantly aware that he was just given some sort of a weapon. His entire body was covered in the form-fitting leather suit. And though the material felt like he wore nothing, when Derek dragged his clawed nails across it, it felt thick and strong; durable.

            When Derek looked up and saw his reflection in the glass window, his eyes shined back at him a brilliant red outline the dark black of his pupil.

            Derek smirked at his image. “This is pretty cool.”

*

            Stiles stood in front of his full body mirror, checking out the transformation fully. He pulled at the skin-tight suit, feeling a bit self-conscious, but pulling at the material felt like tugging on his own skin. “How do I get this thing off?” Stiles asked to empty air. “Tikki? Help?”

            His computer made an alert noise, and Stiles’ gaze was drawn to it. The live news footage was still playing, and it captured his attention. The newscaster was talking about the location of Stoneheart, the akumatized’s villain name, and Stiles noticed someone familiar driving a motorbike behind Stoneheart. Stiles’ heart missed a beat when he recognized the bike’s rider as Scott. That foolish boy, stepping right into danger!

            “Stiles?” Papa shouted from right outside his door. “You’re here, right?”

            Stiles froze and struggled to respond. “Yeah, Papa! I’m fine!”

            The trapdoor began to open, and Stiles fled, racing up the other set of stairs in his room that led up onto the rooftop. Stiles stood on top of the trapdoor and listen to his père’s nervous puttering around his room. Stiles winced, knowing he’d be in a lot of trouble when his père finally got a hold of him. But he couldn’t let Papa see him like this.

            Stiles took an assessment of what he had on him. The belt at his side did indeed have a pouch, but the only thing in it was a yo-yo. Stiles examined the thing, turning it around in his hands. “Is this my weapon?” he asked himself.

            Just to test it out, Stiles tucked the string’s ring around his middle finger before tossing the yo-yo as far as he could. He watched, amazed, as it seemed to travel buildings away before wrapping itself around something on a rooftop. Stiles hummed and tugged on the string experimentally. As he released it, the string began to retract and Stiles was flung from his rooftop across the tops of several buildings before falling as the yo-yo unlatched itself from whatever it had been tied to. His momentum halted suddenly when he crashed into another person, the yo-yo wrapping around the both of them, stopping them from smacking into the ground.

*

            Derek was just having fun testing out his new weapon. The thing he had felt on his back before was a staff, and Derek as he messed with it came to the understanding that the staff could extend for as long as he needed it to. He’d jumped out of his window and escaped to a more secluded place where he could practice in peace.

            He found a nice quiet rooftop to do some balancing tricks on, and extended his staff over the edge, hovering over street. As he was walking across the silver staff, he heard screaming that seemed to rapidly be growing closer. He glanced up to see a person in red falling towards him. He stepped back, startled, but realized that there was nowhere for him to go in the seconds before impact.

            Derek braced himself for hit as the other body collided with his and sent him tumbling off the side of the staff, towards the street below. Before they made contact with the concrete, however, something stopped them.

            It seemed to be a string of some sort, for as soon as it caught the end, they began bouncing and swinging back and forth from the momentum.

            Pressed chest-to-chest, Derek was able to take a good look at the person he was tangled up with. It was another boy, slender in appearance, wearing a full red suit with black polka dots. “Hello,” Derek greeted before teasing, “A bit eager, aren’t we?”

            The red boy blushed, large amber eyes blinking at him. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I accidentally—“ the boy cut himself off, gesturing with a hand to the string situation.

            Derek untangled himself from the web and back flipped to safety. He assessed the boy from a better angle and realized, “You must be the partner Plagg mentioned. I’m… um,” Derek looked down at his clawed hands, scratched at his fabric ears, “Loup Noir. Yes. I quite like that,” he murmured to himself.

            The boy final landed on his feet and began trying to untangle his string from Derek’s staff, where it must have caught itself. Distractedly, the boy responded, “I’m… I’m St—“

            The yo-yo came loose and both it and Derek’s staff fell directly onto Derek’s head. He whined at the pain and rubbed at the sore spot.

            The boy in red winced apologetically. “I’m someone who is very clumsy.”

            Derek shook his head. The pain dissipated. In fact, it didn’t hurt at all after a few seconds.

            “I’m sorry,” the boy apologized, eyes downcast.

            Derek smiled at him before looking down and snagging his staff from the ground. “That’s okay, Clumsy Boy. I’m new at this, too.”

            Before either of them could say anything else, the ground shook, and Derek remembered that feeling all too well. It was Stoneheart, and he was close.

            A building nearby started to crumble from the force of something, and Derek and the boy watched in horror as it collapsed to the ground.

            Derek pursed his lips and trained his eyes on his staff. Time to start hero-ing. He poised his staff in front of him and ejected it, allowing it to pole-vault him over onto the nearest rooftop.

            Back on the ground, the boy frantically shouted after him. “Where are you going?”

            “We need to save the people first!” Derek called back to him.

            As Derek vaulted himself over to the next rooftop, he heard nothing behind him. He was disappointed in the lack of a partner for only just a second before he heard familiar screaming and a red blur flew past him. Derek smirked. He would totally beat him there.

*

            Isaac was packing up his things from PE when he felt tremors shaking the ground. He turned to see a giant stone monster climbing into the stadium. “Isaac!” it shouted, and Isaac dropped his backpack and began to run.

            “Who’s the scaredy cat now?” the monster roared as Isaac tried to pick up the pace. But he stumbled over something and tripped, falling on his face. He quickly flipped onto his back only to see a giant stone hand reaching out to grab him.

            Isaac screamed and held up his arm to block the strike, as much good as that would do, but before the monster could attack, a metal clang interrupted.

*

            Derek as Loup Noir slid down his staff to stand protectively in front of Isaac. The momentary distraction allowed Isaac to pick himself up off the ground and run towards the exit.

            Derek kept the akumatized’s attention on him by teasing it. “Picking on someone smaller than you? Not cool, man.”

            The akumatized responded, and its glowing yellow eyes were quite eerie if Derek was being honest. “I wasn’t talking to you, _puppy_.”

            Derek jumped out of the way a second before a stone hand came down to grab him. Stoneheart’s foot smashed down right where Derek was, but Derek rolled out of the way just in time.

            Stoneheart could hear that voice in his ear again, coming from Argent. “Ladybug and Loup Noir’s miraculous have been activated! Risk yourselves to save your city, but my minions will take you down!”

            Derek took advantage of the akumatized’s pause and ducked easily away from his next attack and flipped over his back and slammed his staff into Stoneheart’s head, landing behind him.

            Derek’s hit, unfortunately, only angered Stoneheart more and caused him to grow even bigger. Derek gulped, for the first time feeling his bravado leave him.

            “Clumsy Boy?” Derek called, searching, begging, for his partner. He ran from Stoneheart’s next few attacks, dodging them just barely.

*

            Stiles stood at the edge of the roof of the stadium and looked down at Loup Noir fighting the akumatized and raised a hand over his mouth. “Oh, I’m not good at this kind of thing!” he chastised himself.

            Stoneheart reached for the goal net on the one end of the stadium and threw it towards Loup Noir. The wolf boy was able to dodge the attack, but Stiles noticed that he wasn’t the only one in danger. Scott stood at the entrance to the field, phone out and filming the fight.

            Stiles wouldn’t have gotten there in time to save him from being crushed, but thankfully Loup was on the case, throwing his staff towards it, extended to create a shield that blocked the entrance, and stopping the goal from crushing the boy. But because Loup took the time to save Scott, it left no eyes on Stoneheart who easily swept in and captured Loup into his grasp, lifting him from the ground.

            Stiles watched the whole thing in frozen horror until Scott’s voice snapped him out of it.

            “What are you doing, red lady bug?! People are watching!”

            Stiles could hear his own heartbeat, blood rushing in his ears. _Ba-bum. Ba-bum._

            He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to figure out his whirling thoughts. Be safe. Help Scott. Help Loup Noir. Save himself. Save Papa. Save the city.

            Save Boyd.

            Stiles threw himself off of the roof of the stadium and tossed his yo-yo at Stoneheart’s legs, wrapping it around them as he slid himself between his legs. Stiles smirked up at the akumatized and said, “No animal abuse!”

            He tugged on the yo-yo, tripping Stoneheart and causing him to fall on his back, hand opening and releasing Loup Noir, dropping him. Loup rolled as soon as he hit the ground, and only came to a stop once he hit the goal net on the other end of the stadium.

            Stiles ran over to him and helped him to stand. “Sorry I’m late, Loup Noir.”

            Loup rolled his neck around as if working out a kink and cracked his knuckles. “It’s alright, Buggy. Now it’s time to bust right through him!”

            “Wait!” Stiles shouted, snagging the back of Derek’s suit where there was a hook for, Stiles assumed, his staff. “He grows every time he gets angry. We need a better plan than just attacking.”

            “Like what?” Loup asked.

            Stiles gazed into his red eyes. They were very intimidating, so he dropped his gaze to the ground. “We could, I guess…” Stiles couldn’t formulate a plan fast enough.

            Apparently Loup Noir was not a patient man. “Fine then, time to use my power. Apocaloups!” Loup Noir shouted.

            Stiles watched with wide eyes as Loup’s hand, that had very sharp claws, _wow_ , began to shimmer, a dark essence seeming to seep from it.

            “I can destroy anything I touch,” Loup boasted with a smirk.

            Stiles shrugged and crossed his arms. “Why would we need a power to destroy things?”

            Loup’s smirk widened and he reached out behind Stiles to touch the goal. Stiles opened his mouth to stop him, but his word of warning came too late. Suddenly the goal net began to dissolve under Loup’s touch.

            Loup even seemed surprised at his level of power, if the way his eyes widened was any indication. “Wow! My power is awesome!” He turned his sights back to the akumatized. “Bring it on, Stoneheart! I’ll turn you into dust!”

            Loup raced toward the akumatized, and Stiles shouted after him, “Loup Noir, wait!”

            As Loup Noir took a running leap and smacked his hand down onto Stoneheart’s foot, he laughed victoriously. But nothing happened. Stoneheart felt nothing. Loup lifted his hand and tried again, smacking it down onto the stone foot. And again. And again.

            Stiles feared for Loup as the akumatized looked even angrier at the black wolf. “Is this power a one-time thing?” Stiles heard the boy ask, and Stiles wanted to smack him upside the head.

            Stoneheart, thankfully, only kicked Loup to be rid of the pest, and the wolf landed right next to Stiles, seemingly unharmed.

            Stiles scolded him, pointing at his nose and declaring, “Your transformation wears off five minutes after you use your ability! Didn’t your kwami tell you that?”

            Stiles noticed Loup’s cheeks tint pink, though the stubble on his cheeks almost covered it. “I was a little bit excited. I guess I didn’t give him a chance to tell me.”

            Stiles smirked and turned his back on Loup Noir. “Well, now it’s my turn.”

            Stiles reached for his yo-yo and shouted, “Lucky Charm!” as he threw it up into the air above him. The weapon spun around and around and Stiles could feel and see the rose-colored magic it exuded. He grinned as a white light encased it and an object materialized and fell into his hands. Stiles blinked at it. It looked like a snowsuit. How on earth was he supposed to use a snowsuit to capture the akuma?!

            Loup Noir seemed unimpressed as well. “That’s your power?” he asked.

            Stiles was infuriated by his smirk and obnoxious air, but he ignored it for now.

            “Tikki told me that I have to use Lucky Charm to find and object and destroy it,” Stiles explained. “What was it… a black arrow!”

            “His entire body is stone,” Loup Noir pointed out. “Are you even sure that exists with him?”

            Stiles’ eyes traveled over the approaching akumatized, trying not to let the shrinking distance scare him. His eyes narrowed onto Stoneheart’s hands and noticed one of his hands was closed in a tight fist. “His right hand!” Stiles shouted, pointing it out. “It’s been closed in a fist this whole time. I bet the object is in his fist.”

            Stiles grinned up at Loup Noir, and the other boy was smiling slightly back at him. “So what’s the plan?” Loup asked.

            Stiles fingered the full body suit between his hands as he took in their surroundings. His gaze moved from the akumatized’s closed fist, to Scott who was still filming, then over to a nearby water spout that was connected up to a hose that was at their feet.

            Stiles eyes widened as a plan came to him. “I got it!”

            Stiles snagged the hose and stuffed it into the snow suit’s head hole, wrapping the hood of it around the hose to tie it off and keep it secure.

            Now came the tricky part. Stiles smiled apologetically at Loup Noir as he wrapped his yo-yo around the other boy’s ankles, trapping them together, eliciting a gasp from him. “Trust me,” Stiles requested before swinging Loup off of his feet and around him in a circle. “And stay still!”

            “Whose side are you on?” Loup cried as Stiles released the string, and the wolf flew right into the akumatized’s hand.

            This captured Stoneheart’s attention, and Stiles shouted at him, “Bet you can’t catch this!”

            Stiles flung himself, the snowsuit in hand, into Stoneheart’s grasp, and for the akumatized to catch him he had to release whatever was in his right hand. The object fell to the ground, and Stiles cheered in triumph, but then the akumatized had him in his grasp. He had to act fast.

            “Scott!” Stiles shouted. “Turn on the water!”

            Scott, thankfully, did as he requested, water quickly filling the hose, traveling down the tube, and filling the body suit full enough that the akumatized could no longer hold both it and Stiles in his hand, and dropped them both.

            Stiles laughed happily and raced over to the dropped object. It looked like a hand-sized rock and was stained a dark purple. This had to be the source of the akuma. Stiles didn’t waste any time stepping on it, and the rolled up paper shattered, flattening under his foot, and out flew a dark purple arrow, heading straight up into the sky.

            A rumbling noise built behind him, and Stiles turned to see Stoneheart fall apart, leaving Loup Noir and Boyd in its wake. The rocks that made up the monster melted away in a cloud of black smoke, as if they’d never existed.

*

            Derek was thankful for whatever magical healing factor his powers bestowed upon him, because if he didn’t have it, with the many times that he’d fallen to the ground in the last half hour, he would probably have been very broken. As it was, the boy who was akumatized seemed to be having a worse headache than him.

            Derek looked up at his partner as he watched the akuma arrow fly through the sky, admiring the happy flush on the boy’s cheeks. “Who is that boy?” he asked himself on a breath. “How is he so cool?” By using his smarts, he was able to defeat the akuma, and Derek had barely anything to do with it. Derek was very, very impressed. His heart may have skipped.

            The boy to his right groaned and asked them, eyes dazed, “What just happened? Why am I here?”

            Derek’s boy bound over at that question and Derek stood to meet him. “You—“ Derek cut himself off. “That was so cool, uh. Buggy. You did it!”

            Buggy flushed. “We did it,” he stressed. His hand reached out and patted Derek on the shoulder. Derek covered Buggy’s hand with his own, and the other boy’s breath caught.

            The beeping of Derek’s ring ruined the moment. Where a whole wolf paw had appeared after his transformation, now all but the last toe on the paw was left. And even as he watched, the last claw flickered and disappeared.

            “You should go,” Buggy told him, voice soft. “We can’t reveal out identities.”

            Derek nodded, letting his hand fall back to his side. “Guess I’ll be going then.” He took out his staff and extended it as he took a running start across the stadium. “See you again, my bug!” Derek called as he vaulted himself over the roof of the stadium.

*

            Stiles watched, amused, as Loup Noir disappeared from his view. “I’d much rather we don’t,” he softly replied to Loup, mostly because the situation that they would be needed was not a good one.

            Boyd groaned again, capturing Stiles’ attention. Stiles looked down at the de-akumatized note in his hand, the one Boyd had been holding. He smoothed out the creases and read what was written. “I bet you don’t have the guts to confess to Erica, you scaredy cat.” Stiles winced at the harsh words.

            “There’s this guy. My ami, Isaac. He likes to make fun of me. Usually it’s teasing, but this time he went too far,” Boyd explained, form slumped over in defeat.

            Stiles placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t let stuff like this get to you, especially when you know Isaac doesn’t mean any real harm. Besides, liking someone is nothing to be ashamed of, Boyd.”

            Boyd blinked and stared up at him. “Wait. Who are you and how do you know my name?”

            Stiles recoiled, standing abruptly. Thankfully, Scott interrupted.

            At some point he had gotten even closer and was still filming the interaction. “That was so amazing!” Scott gushed. “Man, you’re the coolest! Are you going to protect Balise de Collines from now on? Where did you get your powers? Was it a mutation? A radioactive bugbite? I have so many questions!”

            Stiles recoiled from the assault of questions, and he backed away slowly, eventually giving up on listening and turned his back on them.

            “Can you at least give me a name?” Scott asked, and Stiles paused.

            He turned back, a small smile on his face. “Uh. Ladybug. Call me Ladybug, I guess. Why not.”

            He then ran off, hearing his own miraculous ear cuff beeping in his ear. Scott shouted his thanks and praise as he left.

*

            Scott’s video made it onto the internet in record time. An hour later, when Stiles was back in his room, detransformed, perched on his desk chair, he watched the same newscaster talk about Balise de Collines’s newest superhero duo: Ladybug and Loup Noir.

            “I did it, Tikki,” Stiles breathed, amazed at himself.

            “I knew you could,” Tikki replied as she flew into view.

            “Stiles! Dinner!”

            Stiles jumped from his chair and opened his door, flying down the stairs. He was _starving_.

            Papa had made burgers for dinner, and Stiles only glared at his old man for a moment before his père showed him the bowl of vegetables he was serving alongside the burgers. His père had the news playing in the background, in the living room. Stiles kept an ear out for anything interesting.

*

            Likewise, Derek was still revolting against his mère in the only way he, as Derek Hale, could, by quarantining himself in his bedroom. The cook had delivered dinner to his door, and Derek had accepted it, but he hadn’t touched it yet. He couldn’t bring himself to. He was too starstruck. Or lovestruck, would be more accurate.

            Plagg was sniffing at the food, but Derek paid his kwami no mind as his attention was on the television, on Maire Whittemore announcing that they would be holding a ceremony in thanks to Loup Noir and Ladybug.

            “ _Ladybug_. He calls himself Ladybug…” Derek sighed happily, remembering his bug vividly. The light flush on his cheeks. The splatter of moles across his jaw. The quirk of his lips. His bravery. Derek sighed wistfully again.

            Plagg made a noise of disgust, pulling Derek from his thoughts. The kwami was holding a small bowl filled with an ice-cream treat, that was meant to be dessert. “What’s this supposed to be? A joke?” Plagg asked.

            Well. It was a little extravagant for ice-cream. Derek would have been fine with a carton and a spoon. “Our cook is a famous chef,” he defended weakly.

            “You expect me to eat this? I worked so hard today, and this is all you give me? I have a refined taste, don’t you know.”

            Derek rolled his eyes at his dramatic kwami. “Fine, what does your refined taste want?”

            Plagg grinned, and Derek winced at the devious look.

*

            Stiles’ père had gone back to work, as his shifts often fell overnight, so he was left to do the dishes alone. The television was left on even after his père left, Stiles too lazy to turn it off, so he idly watched it as he washed the dishes leftover from dinner.

            The sudden shift from lighthearted news to a BREAKING NEWS flash across the screen startled Stiles, and he almost dropped the plate he was drying.

            “We are getting reports and video footage of citizens of Balise de Collines seemingly being turned into the same stone monsters, like the one we witnessed ravage our town today. Though nothing has happened, and all of the stone people are frozen, it’s a wonder why this similar tragedy has struck once more. We have some video footage here.”

            Stiles watched with horror as an innocent passerby was struck with a very similar arrow to the one he witnessed not a few hours ago. The second video showed a very similar reaction, and the third the same. Stiles’ heart constricted. What was happening?!

            “Tikki?!”

*

            “Of all the things, you had to go with the raw meat,” Derek drawled from his relaxed position on his bed. “I’m going to smell like a butcher’s now. I hope you’re happy.”

            Plagg licked his lips after taking a bite from some raw hamburger meat. “I am!”

            Derek reached out for his phone on his bedside table and accidentally hit the television remote, increasing the volume. The anxious tone of the newscaster caught Derek’s attention, and his eyes widened as he took in the news story. Hadn’t they just fixed all of this?

            Derek voiced his concerns to Plagg, ignoring the disgusting noises he made while eating.

            Plagg turned to look at him, food all but forgotten. “You didn’t catch the black arrow?”

*

            Stiles stared at Tikki as she inhaled a cookie, and Stiles bit into one as well to quell his nerves.

            “What does the arrow have to do with these monsters?” Stiles pushed for answers.

            “The arrows, once turned into akumas, can spread the evil simply through touch. So if the one you are fighting got ahold of the arrow, even after you saved the boy from it, they could still use it to hurt others, and even more because of its multiplying power. That’s why you had to neutralize it, so that it couldn’t be used for evil again. Because if the original akumatized victim gets angry, they will become akumatized again. And the monsters created by the multiplications become its army.”

            Stiles dropped his half-eaten cookie to the plate, appetite gone, and settled heavily into his desk chair. “So this is all my fault,” he whispered, voice cracking. He felt a stinging behind his eyes. “Oh, Tikki, how can I be a hero after this?” Stiles rubbed at his eyes, swallowing back the urge to cry in frustration. “I just made things worse. Like I always do. I flail and trip and have panic attacks and spaz all over the place. That’s all I’m good for.”

            “It was just your first time,” Tikki replied, poking at Stiles’ hands that covered his face. “Don’t be so hard on yourself! All you have to do is go out and find the black arrow! You’ll be able to do it this time, I know it.”

            Stiles stood abruptly and turned his back on the kwami. He pursed his lips tightly and balled his hands into fists. “I told you, Tikki!” Stiles shouted. “I can’t do this! I’m no good. I’m just an awful, clumsy boy who will ruin everything!”

            Stiles took a deep breath and turned back to the kwami. He wiped at his eyes. “It’s better if I just stay out of this. For me, for you, for everyone in Balise de Collines. Loup Noir can handle it on his own. I can’t do it.”

            “He can’t,” Tikki squeaked out.

            “What do you mean he can’t do it without Ladybug?” Stiles asked, concern bleeding into his voice.

            “You are the only one who can purify the black arrow,” Tikki replied. “You have the power of creation; Loup Noir has the power of destruction. You cannot destroy evil, only change it for the better.”

            Stiles pursed his lips, sharing a look at himself in the mirror. “You should find another Ladybug,” he finally said after a moment of silent reflection.

            Tikki looked at Stiles, horrified.

            “I’m sorry, Tikki,” Stiles whispered, reaching up to take the ear cuff off.

            “No, please don’t take it off!”

            Tikki’s plea was silenced, and Stiles looked up to find her gone.

            Stiles sighed heavily and searched for the box that the miraculous originally came in. He finally found it underneath his desk, placed the ear cuff into it, and closed the whole thing into one of his desk drawers.

            “I’m really sorry Tikki,” Stiles whispered as he closed the drawer with a finite resound.

*

            “This one was a child with a gentle heart,” Argent crooned as she stroked silver fingers over her beloved black arrow. “But soon the child’s anger and sadness will reign supreme. With the combined strength of these clones, it’s just a matter of time before I can capture Ladybug and Loup Noir. And when I get their miraculouses, no one will be a match for me. No one can oppose me. I’ll become a god-like being!”

            Argent’s laugh echoed around the dark and empty room which soon became completely devoid of light as the skylight closed, cutting her off from the view of a somber Balise de Collines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's more of this insanity on my tumblr at redhoodedwolf
> 
> Vocabulary Index:  
> Papa/Père- father  
> commissaire de police- A commissary has both an administrative role and an investigative role. The commissaire also has judicial powers which police officers in English-speaking countries do not have. (from Wikipedia)  
> Fils- son  
> Balise de Collines- Beacon Hills  
> Lycée- high school (ages 15-18)  
> École- school  
> Institut- school building  
> Connard- asshole/shithead  
> professeur - teacher  
> Copine- girlfriend  
> meilleur ami- best friend  
> Copain- boyfriend  
> École primaire- Primary School (ages 6-11)  
> Mademoiselle (Mlle)- Miss  
> Maman/mère- mother  
> Frère- brother  
> Élèves- students  
> Ami- friend  
> Bibliothèque- library  
> Hôpital- hospital  
> Infirmière- nurse (en chef means head, so head nurse)  
> maison- home  
> école à la maison- homeschool  
> Fille- daughter  
> Amis- friends  
> Sœur- sister  
> Maire- mayor  
> Je t'aime mon fils.- I love you, my son.  
> transformer moi!- transform me!  
> Merci- thank you  
> Sixième- grade for 11-12 year olds  
> Collège- Junior High School  
> Merde- shit


	2. Stoneheart Origins- Part 2

*

            News footage of the same stationary monsters flashed across the television as the newscaster spoke. “Still no activity from the numerous Stonehearts scattered across Balise de Collines, today. The police have roped off and set up patrols at the six areas in the city where the Stonehearts are located. Authorities are advising citizens to stay away from these areas, just to be safe.”

            Maire Whittemore, once again speaking to the press, appeared on screen, announcing, “We are still searching for a way to allow the citizens trapped within the Stonehearts to be freed, but for the moment we have no leads.”

            “Let us hope that the newest guardians of Balise de Collines, Ladybug and Loup Noir, will appear to save these innocent victims,” the newscaster cut in as the video of the maire minimalized and moved to the corner of the screen.

            Stiles tried to strangle the pained noise that was involuntarily ripped from his throat, but from his père’s concerned look, he didn’t succeed.

            Stiles turned his back on the television, tuning it out, as he continued to clean around the kitchen. He moved the plates from dinner the night previous from the dish drainer, swiped them one last time with a towel, and put them back in the cabinet. He then reached for the silverware to do the same.

            “Stiles.” His père’s voice, laced with worry, made Stiles pause. A hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed, and Stiles melted into the comfort. “I know that everything that happened yesterday is worrying, but everything will work out.” His père huffed out a breath. “We still have no leads, but this kind of an event seems to be out of the police’s hands. But now that we have heroes, protectors, whatever they label themselves as, who have dealt with this before, we have to concede to them.” His père shot him a warm smile, but all Stiles could feel was cold. “And the best way to support them and to not allow this situation to take over all of your thoughts is to trust in them, and not be afraid. They need out support.”

            Stiles felt a wave of panic rush through him, and he forced it back, ducked his head and shrugged out from underneath his père’s comforting hand.

            “But… what if Ladybug does not reappear?” Stiles breathed his question. His fingers began to shake, and he clenched his fists, holding tight to the cuffs of his plaid over shirt.

            “Then I will save you,” Papa declared, perching a hand on his hip where his gun holster sat, chin raised in triumph.

            Stiles quirked a smile at that image. Memories of the past, of when Stiles would get nightmares and panic attacks, especially after Maman passed away, and his père would hold him in his arms and promise that he would be there for Stiles and keep him safe. He would cock his chin, just like that, and Stiles would call him ‘Super Papa’.

            Stiles shook away the memories. They were of no good to him now. His père couldn’t fight off these monsters, he knew that. Not wanting to disappoint his père any further, Stiles plastered on a smile and nodded. “Merci Papa.”

            His père nodded back and ruffled his fils’ hair. “Now go grab your stuff for école, or you’ll be late. I’ll finish cleaning up in here.”

            Stiles nodded, tossing the used dish rag into the laundry room as he passed, and jogged up the stairs, raising the trapdoor and setting it aside so that he could get into the room. His backpack sat, innocent, on his desk chair. But when Stiles snagged it and swung it over his shoulder, his eyes were naturally drawn to his desk. Specifically, the middle desk drawer.

            Stiles hesitated before reaching out a hand and opening the drawer, just a bit. Sitting atop various miscellaneous pens and post-it notes was the box holding the miraculous. Part of Stiles had hoped that overnight the thing would just disappear, and he would no longer be responsible for it.

            But as it was, it was still in his possession. Stiles took the box into his hand, pale fingers curling over the dark stained wood. If Stiles couldn’t be Ladybug, then he could at least find someone who was better suited to be Ladybug. Stiles scoffed at himself. Anyone would be better than him at being Ladybug.

            Nodding to himself, Stiles unzipped the front pocket of his backpack and placed the box in there, zipping it back up tightly to assure he didn’t lose it.

            “Fifteen minutes, Stiles!” Papa shouted from below, and Stiles jumped into action, pushing the miraculous to a far corner of his mind, for now.

*

            Now that he’d had a taste of freedom, Derek wasn’t giving up. He wasn’t going to give into Maman’s wishes of him becoming a hermit and staying “safe” in their maison. He was going to école, _real_ école, whether she liked it or not.

            Even though Plagg had been against it at first, saying, “Silly boy, why would you want to go to école when you could stay at maison and relax _all day_?” Derek had rebuffed him.

            “Plagg, you don’t understand. I’m sick and tired of being trapped because of Maman’s wishes. If I go to école I can make real amis, and do what every other normal 17-year-old does! I just want to be normal for once!”

            “You aren’t normal,” Plagg had whined as Derek shouted the magic words to transform into Loup Noir so that he could sneak out of his bedroom window and escape; backpack hoisted over his shoulder and smacking against his side as he vaulted himself a safe distance from maison before detransforming.

            Racing across streets of Balise de Collines, back as Derek, Plagg flew from his normal resting spot in the inner pocket of Derek’s leather jacket, whining “I’m tired! And hungry!”

            “Seriously?” Derek hissed as he came to a sudden stop. He turned to the idling kwami. “You want to eat now?”

            “Well I did my job, making you Loup, now you do yours,” the kwami demanded, sounding like a petulant child. For god’s sake, Plagg was hundreds of years old!

            Derek huffed but reached over to his shoulder backpack and pulled out a small refrigerated bag. He breathed through his mouth so as to avoid smelling the foul stench of raw meat. Derek held the bag out towards Plagg, and the kwami happily jumped in and began to chow down.

            “Eating meat gives me strength,” Plagg declared at Derek’s disgusted look. “And if you want to transform, you have to get used to smelling like a meat locker.”

            The kwami had had his full, Derek decided half a minute later, and wrapped the bag back up, shoving it into his backpack as far away from his nose as possible. He pointed to the inside pocket of his jacket and shot the kwami a stern look, and Plagg obliged, going back to his spot and disappearing from view.

            Derek took a deep breath and started running again. He wasn’t going to let his mère win.

*

            Stiles caught up with Scott on the steps of the institut. Scott was literally bouncing with energy, looking exactly like the curious video-taper he’d encountered yesterday as Ladybug.

            Scott whipped out his phone as they stepped into the institut, and pulled up a webpage Stiles had never seen before. Scott preened at Stiles’ curious noise when he spotted a photo of himself as Ladybug at the top of the page.

            “I call it ‘The Ladyblog’,” Scott said. “I created it last night. It’s the newest and best source on Ladybug, who is the newest and best superhero! Awesome huh?”

            Stiles gave him an encouraging smile, as best as he could muster up.

            Scott snatched his phone back from Stiles’ hands, eager, as he scrolled through the page to find something. “Because of that video I took, my blog exploded with viewers!”

            Scott looked so happy at the prospect of running a successful blog, and Stiles felt his heart break a little. Because there would be no more Ladybug (at least not Stiles as Ladybug), then the blog would become nothing.

            “Scott,” Stiles approached warily. “Why do you trust Ladybug so much? You saw all those Stonehearts still out there—“

            Scott cut him off with a seemingly obvious response of, “I’m sure he’ll find a way to fix it.”

            “But…” Stiles tried to phrase his thoughts as best as he could without giving away his identity. “What if Ladybug isn’t as great as everyone is making him out to be? What if he’s not cut out to be a superhero?”

            Scott stared at him as if he had several heads. “What are you even talking about?”

            Stiles ducked his head and turned away, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks. Scott’s eyes narrowed and he pushed his face into Stiles’ space, staring at him intently. Then, something like understanding flashed across Scott’s expression. Stiles panicked.

            “Ah, I see…” Scott said cryptically. “I get it.” He clapped his hands down onto Stiles’ shoulders. “You’re scared,” he revealed. Stiles felt his shoulders slump in relief and hoped Scott took that as confirmation for his assumption. “But there’s no need to be,” Scott told him with confidence. “I saw Ladybug with my own eyes, and he’s amazing. That boy is a real superhero. He’s going to protect us all, I just know it! Trust me.”

            Scott’s eyes shone with admiration for Ladybug and Stiles was hit with a sudden reminder of what he’d told Tikki yesterday when she was convincing him to take up the role as Ladybug. _Scott_ could be Ladybug. He’d suggested it offhandedly to Tikki the night before, but now it was a real serious thought. If he could just find a way to give Scott the miraculous, then Balise de Collines could get their superhero back and Stiles would be off the hook!

            Stiles jogged after Scott who had left him behind, but slowed his steps when he saw where he was headed. Boyd sat on a bench outside of a classroom, several élèves surrounding him. His shoulders were raised up around his ears defensively.

            “You don’t remember anything?” a girl asked. Boyd shook his head.

            “You should have seen it,” another élève said. “You totally flipped, and it was insane!”

            “Seriously.” Isaac chimed in with a bit of laughter in his voice. “You wanted to pulverize me.”

            Off to the side of the group, Stiles noticed Erica standing, watching Boyd with wary eyes. Boyd looked up at her, and the girl gasped, dropping her gaze automatically.

            Boyd sighed heavily, chin dropping to his chest. “It wasn’t me, really. Sorry.”

            A sharp laughter cut through Boyd’s words, and Stiles sneered at Jackson as the blond connard sauntered up like he owned the place. “Oh _please_ ,” Jackson drawled. “Once a monster, always a monster,” he taunted Boyd.

            Boyd stood suddenly and stormed off. Stiles watched him go and hesitated to reach out. But by the time he’d decided to do so, Boyd was gone.

            “Perfect!” Jackson shouted after him. “We feel safer without you!”

            Stiles wanted to punch him in the neck.

            Scott was right there with him and stormed up to Jackson, unafraid with that new-kid bravado. “How could you say that?’ Scott shouted. “It’s you who has a stone heart, not him!”

            “Ooh,” Jackson cooed, not intimidated in the least. “Well, am I the one who threw cars at police? Just because the news took your footage of those two superheroes sweeping in doesn’t mean anything. You are _nothing_.”

            Scott’s face turned beet red, and Stiles reached out to calm him before he said something he would regret.

            But Jackson just kept pushing. “Uh-oh, look out! Someone’s getting angry! You gonna rip off your shirt and grow bulging muscles and turn into a monster to get back at me?”

            Scott flinched, very slightly.

            “Scott, let it go,” Stiles whispered, wrapping his fingers around the other boy’s wrist.

            Scott huffed out an angry breath in Jackson’s face, before turning away. Stiles kept his hand on his ami’s arm as he calmed down.

            In the midst of the chaos, Stiles slipped the box with the miraculous from his backpack into a side pouch of Scott’s.

*

            Unfortunately for Derek, his sœur knew him far too well. Derek was sure, as soon as he heard the tires squealing against asphalt as he raced up the institut steps, that Laura knew he would attempt something again today and had come after him. Well, she was right. But Derek wasn’t going to stop, not today, not until his mère agreed.

            “Derek!” Laura shouted as she spilled out from her car, parked haphazardly in front of the institut. “Don’t do this. Maman will be furious!”

            “Tell her you were too late. Tell her I was already inside by the time you found me. Please, Laura,” Derek begged, wide hazel eyes locked on his sœur.

            Laura hesitated, and that was all that Derek needed. He made his escape then, throwing himself into the institut, not looking behind him to see if she followed or not.

            As soon as he entered the large entry hallway, he looked around for Jackson, the only friendly face he knew. Derek easily spotted him in a crowd of several other élèves. “Jackson!” Derek shouted, catching the boy’s attention.

            Jackson’s entire demeanor changed. He stood up straighter and plastered a wide smile on his face. Derek almost winced at how fake it looked. Still, Jackson was the only ami he had, so he had to start somewhere.

            “Derek! You’re here!” The boy came up to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I thought you were supposed to start yesterday with the rest of us?”

            Derek chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah. I, uh, got held up.”

            It took him a moment, but Derek noticed other élèves staring in his direction as he spoke to Jackson, whispering amongst themselves. Derek swallowed back the fear. He wasn’t used to a lot of attention. He didn’t really like it at all.

            “Is that Derek Hale?”

            “Hale? Like the Hale fire from, like, a decade ago?”

            “No, like six years ago. I heard he was badly scared. He looks fine now.”

            “Very fine.”

            Derek turned his back on the other élèves to take a look at his surroundings. The lycée appeared to be much larger than he remembered his last institut being. It was a little intimidating, if he was being honest. What immediately caught his gaze, however, was Laura standing inside of the entrance, a backpack slung over her shoulder.

            “If you’re going to be stupid,” Laura declared with a smirk as she walked up to him. “Then I might as well be stupid with you.”

*

            As soon as Scott had calmed down enough and left to go to his locker, Stiles ducked away, thankful for the distraction, and followed Boyd into the boy’s bathroom.

            The boy was sitting with his back against the wall across from the stalls, so Stiles settled onto the floor next to him. Boyd looked up at him, confused for only a moment, but then he sighed when he spotted the other person was Stiles.

            “You know,” Stiles started, tugging at a loose thread on his jeans as he looked up at Boyd. “You should tell Erica how you feel.”

            Boyd clammed up immediately at the sound of Erica’s name. “I don’t know what you’re taking about.” He turned his gaze away.

            Stiles rolled his eyes. “Please. We’ve been classmates since école primaire. I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s obvious.”

            Boyd snapped his head up, alarmed, eyes blown wide.

            Stiles winced and tried to cover up his blunder. “Only to me!” He assured. “Only to me. Don’t feel negatively—er, I mean, think positively. I’m sure she feels the same about you. Just talk to her.”

            “I’ve never been good with words,” Boyd admitted.

            “She’s your ami, right?” Stiles asked. “You’re close. I’m sure if you even try to talk to her, explain yourself, she would understand. If she knows you half as well as I, then even if you blunder she will understand.”

            Boyd looked a little more hopeful, at that.

            “I say go for it. And, uh, stay positive?” Stiles grinned at him.

            Boyd smiled, as much as Boyd smiles, and stood, leaving Stiles alone in the bathroom.

            Stiles sighed in relief. If Jackson had pushed Boyd into feeling anger again, then the akuma would reactivate itself. And Stiles really didn’t want that to happen, at least not until he could convince Scott to be Ladybug and take over the superhero role.

*

            Jackson and his copine Lydia, whom Derek had met only a few times over the last few years at random functions both the Hales and the Whittemores had to attend, flanked him as he was led down the hall into their homeroom classroom. Laura walked behind him, fearless as always. As they passed, many élèves began to whisper again, and Derek was glad for the supports on all sides of him, no matter how unsupportive they could be personality wise. At least they weren’t calling Derek a freak or a god. Derek wasn’t sure which one he hated more.

            Derek’s steps faltered as they arrived at the classroom, and he hesitated before entering. Lydia had no reservations and easily pushed past him to take her seat, but Jackson entered the room at a more sedated pace.

            Jackson stopped at the first table on the left side of the room and rapped his knuckles on the wood. “You two can sit here at this table. Lydia and I are right behind you.”

            Laura wasted no time in taking the end seat, leaving the aisle open for Derek. He took a deep breath before stepping into the room and taking his seat. Laura patted his hand, consolingly. As soon as Jackson was sure Derek wasn’t going to, like, run or something, Derek assumed, the boy turned back to his backpack and pulled a water bottle out of it.

            Jackson moved to the middle of the aisle between the first row of seats. He unscrewed the cap of the water bottle and with a dry, “Oops,” he tipped it to the side. Derek watched in confusion as Jackson spilled the entire bottle onto the seats across from him, and then dropped the empty plastic on top of the giant spill.

            Derek’s eyebrows furrowed, jaw dropped. He stood and asked, “Jackson, what was that for?” He gestured to the soaked seat. Sure, he’d never been to lycée before, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t a normal thing.

            “The two idiots who sit here were rude to me yesterday and today. They obviously need a reminder as to where their place is. They need to remember to respect me,” Jackson replied, as if that was a good enough excuse to bully someone.

            Derek narrowed his eyes and his fists clenched. God, Jackson was such a connard sometimes. It had been a few weeks since Derek had last interacted with him, and he’d forgotten how nasty Jackson could be. He didn’t know that he was even worse at école.

            But Derek couldn’t say anything other than, “Did you have to do _this_ , though?”

            Jackson took his seat, nonchalant, and replied, “You have much to learn about lycée, Derek.”

            Derek bent down to pick up the empty plastic water bottle to throw it away, and maybe grab some towels from the bathroom and wipe up the mess because Jackson sure wasn’t going to do it with his massive pride, but just as he turned to toss the bottle into the trash, he was met with two angry faces.

            One of the angry boys was taller and lither than the other who had deep brown hair, tanned skin, and a crooked jaw. But the taller boy had bright amber eyes that were wide and irate. There was a cluster of moles on his flushed cheek.

            “What the heck are you doing?” the taller one hissed, approaching Derek.

            Derek glanced down at the water bottle in his hands, then at the soaked seat. His eyes then widened.

            Jackson started cracking up from behind him, capturing all of their attentions. Derek heard the bottle’s plastic crunch from his tightened grip on it.

            The taller boy deflated a little and rolled his eyes. “Alright, I get it. You’re Jacksons new ami, good job, ha-ha.” The boy looked anything but amused.

            Derek fumbled to explain himself. “No, it wasn’t—I was going to clean it up!”

            The taller boy pressed into his space, and they were so close their noses practically touched. “Oh yeah?” the boy challenged, warm breath hitting Derek’s cheeks, and Derek’s mouth went dry.

            But then the other, shorter boy came back into the room with a roll of paper towels. The two turned their backs on Derek and did their best to wipe up the watery mess. The taller one stripped off his hoodie, then the plaid shirt he wore underneath it, before shrugging the hoodie back on, opting to sit on the shirt. They did their best to clean up the water, and Derek had attempted to reach out once to help, but they’d both glared him into submission.

            Derek slumped back into his seat, defeated.

            “See what I mean?” Jackson leaned forward and whispered in his ear, and Derek suppressed a flinch.

            Laura whistled softly, and Derek turned his glare on her.

            She held her hands up in a surrender. “Hey, don’t be pissy at me. You’re the one who’s amis with the guy… Why didn’t you tell them it was Jackson?”

            Derek ran a hand through his hair and scratched at his facial scruff. He probably should have shaved this morning, oops. “He’s the only ami I have, Laura, you know that. Not all of us got to keep our amis from école after the—“ Derek cut himself off, not even able to talk about the fire to his own sœur.

            Laura pursed her lips. “Well, it’s about time you made some new amis. You could always start with them.” She nodded her head over to the still-scowling duo.

            Derek ducked his head, ashamed. “Like they’d want to,” he grumbled under his breath, relieved when the professeur started to gather the class’ attention.

*

            Erica threw herself out of the girl’s bathroom, cursing herself for being late to class, and almost ran smack into Boyd who was standing right outside.

            She shouted in surprise, but once she stepped back and assessed the situation, she took a deep breath. “Boyd,” she said on a breath. “You startled me.”

            Boyd swallowed thickly, and he glanced slightly at the paper in his hand. He’d written down some things to say about why he liked Erica, in case he got himself tripped up, but he was hoping he wouldn’t need to consult it.

            “Erica,” he started. “I, I mean, we have been amis for a long time. Well, me, you, and Isaac.” He shook his head. “No, not Isaac. He has nothing to do with this. Um.”

            “Boyd,” Erica started to say, but Boyd cut her off.

            “Erica, what I’m trying to say is that you know me and what I mean, always. So you know what I mean, right? You get what I’m trying to tell you?”

            Erica blinked. “No. No, Boyd, I don’t. And I’m already late for class and you’re just making me later so I have to go!”

            The blonde raced past Boyd, not listening to another stuttered word that tried to come out of his mouth.

            Boyd dropped his head and rolled the paper in his hands up into a ball. He would never be able to properly explain himself to her. She’d never understand him, and she’d never feel the same way.

            A sadness heart-deep bubbled up inside of Boyd, and someone whispered in his ear, “Well, that was exactly what I was waiting for.”

            A familiar darkness began to cover Boyd’s vision as a black arrow struck the balled-up paper in his hands. Boyd opened his eyes and saw only red.

            “Stoneheart,” Argent cooed, “Your second chance is here, and this time it will be even easier. No one will stop you from winning the lady you love. Just remember to bring me what I’m due. The miraculouses of Ladybug and Loup Noir.”

*

            Stiles’ jaw hadn’t unclenched since he’d entered the classroom and seen the new kid (Jackson’s ami, _ugh_ ) ruining his and Scott’s seats. As Mlle Morrell went over rollcall, he finally allowed himself to relax. They’d been able to clean up most of the water, and Stiles could barely feel the water seeping through the plaid into the material of his jeans.

            “Derek Hale?’ Mlle Morrell asked.

            Stiles glanced over at the new kid whose sœur was whispering to him. He shot up from his seat suddenly and yelled, “Here!”

            The entire class tittered, and Derek sat back down with a blush, the girl next to him (Laura Hale, apparently, going from the next name Mlle called) wrapping an arm around his shoulders as she confirmed her presence in a much more sedated manner.

            Stiles eyes widened when he suddenly realized that they were _the_ Hale twins. They were the only pair of twins in Stiles’ class in _sixième_ , and they had no longer attended the _collège_ by the end of the year. Stiles hadn’t learned what had really happened to them until a few years later. Some insane woman allegedly set fire to the entire Hale estate, killing numerous workers, an uncle, and Papa Hale, as well as the youngest Hale child. The arsonist was never caught, and the case had gone cold years ago.

            Stiles felt momentarily bad for the two before he remembered what Derek had done just a few minutes ago, and the fact that the was apparently meilleur amis with _Jackson_. When his name was called, he simply raised his hand to confirm his attendance, mind somewhere else.

            Then every thought left his head when Mlle Morrell asked the class, “Has anyone seen Boyd?”

            The classroom door burst open, shards of wood flying in every direction, and Stoneheart stomped into the room, glowing yellow eyes just as menacing to Stiles as they had been the day before. Stiles found himself ducked down in his seat without even realizing he’d done anything to protect himself, Scott dragged down next to him.

            “ERICAAAA,” Stoneheart roared, and someone in the back of the room screamed. The akumatized went directly towards the poor shaking blonde and plucked her from her seat.

            “Boyd, let me go!” Erica shouted at him, arms pushing at the stone fingers that held her captive in the akumatized’s hand.

            “There is no more Boyd, only Stoneheart,” was the reply, and Erica whimpered out a sob.

            “Why are you doing this?!”

            “So that we can be together forever.”

            “Papa!” Jackson shouted into the receiver of his phone, catching the akumatized’s attention. Stiles winced at that and pulled Scott to the back of the room, out of the way of danger. “The monster is back!”

            The eerie yellow eyes of Stoneheart pierced Jackson and he shouted, “You!” before reaching down to pick up Jackson in his other hand. Jackson shouted and struggled, but nothing worked.

            Stiles watched in horror as Stoneheart punched through the outer wall with his foot and jumped to the ground, onto the street below.

            Next to him. Scott, of course, had his phone out and was filming the entire thing. Stiles almost rolled his eyes at him.

            “Come on,” Scott urged Stiles as Stoneheart began retreating down the street, both hostages in hand. “Let’s follow them!”

            Stiles froze and stuttered, “Uh, no. No, you go ahead. I’d rather stay here where it’s safe.”

            “But you’ll miss Ladybug in action!” Scott declared. “You were the one who didn’t believe in what I saw in him yesterday, but you could see him save the day today and understand what I mean about him being a real superhero!”

            Stiles gaze dropped to his feet, and he noticed Scott’s backpack not far from him. He reached for it and held it out to Scott. He took a deep breath. “You and Ladybug will do better without me,” he told him, only a small shake in his voice.

            Scott scoffed. “As you wish,” he replied before running out of the room, leaving Stiles, his backpack, and the miraculous behind.

            “Wait! You’re forgetting your bag!” Stiles shouted after him, stumbling across the room towards a disappeared Scott.

*

            As soon as the akumatized broke into the classroom, Laura was tugging Derek out of the room and down the hallway. Derek struggled to come up with some kind of an excuse, and stuttered, “Wait, I left my phone in my locker. I’ll meet you at the car!”

            It was obvious that Laura was not happy with it, but Derek pulled himself from her grasp and was already bolting down the hall.

            He skidded into the boy’s bathroom, relieved to find it empty. He patted the side of his jacket, and Plagg flew out form the inside pocket.

            “My first day and I don’t even get through rollcall,” Derek grumbled, twisting the ring around his fourth finger.

            “Yes, but now you have the rest of the day free!” Plagg responded. “That’s good news.”

            Derek smirked. “Oh, no no no. The école may get a day off, but we don’t. Plagg, transformer moi!”

            The transformation to Loup Noir overcame him quickly, Derek watching as Plagg was sucked up into the ring, and his leather suit felt as if he’d always worn it, so comfortable on his body. Derek easily slipped out of the bathroom and out of the institut amidst all of the chaos.

            Stoneheart hadn’t gotten very far from the institut, and Derek traveled over rooftops to track him. He spotted him one street over, and he vaulted himself over there with his staff, expanding and retracting the two metal ends like it was on a spring.

            This close to them, Derek could hear Jackson complaining about how his père, _the maire_ , was going to call the cavalry and save them.

            Derek threw himself off of the rooftop, timing it perfectly so that his strike of his staff came down on Stoneheart’s head, and he flipped so that he landed in front of the akumatized. “Don’t forget the superheroes!” he declared with a smirk.

            Stoneheart began to growl and grow at least a third of a size larger. Derek had forgotten that anger made him bigger, whoops.

            Jackson looked at Loup Noir, unimpressed with this change. The girl in his other hand, Erica if Derek remembered correctly, looked scared to death.

            “Sorry?” Derek apologized.

            “I think you mean the super incompetent,” Jackson shot back at him.

            “You’re really in no position to be insulting me, you know that right?” Derek arched an eyebrow.

            Jackson snapped his mouth shut.

            “You wanted the cavalry?” Stoneheart spoke. Derek felt the ground begin to shake, and he braced himself for whatever was coming. “Well here it is!”

            At first, Derek saw nothing. But then, two identical Stoneheart clones raced in from the left, then another two from the right, and another two from behind him. Derek turned, counting seven Stonehearts in all, including Boyd. He was severely outmatched.

            “Get him!” the original Stoneheart shouted, pointing to Derek with the hand holding Jackson.

            Suddenly, Derek was dodging attacks coming from stone hands and feet. He rolled between legs, ducked under swipes, and forced himself not to fight back, knowing they would only grow stronger if he did. His strength was not in defense, but offense. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of this one.

            Derek didn’t have the ability to charge after the akumatized as he let his clones do the attacking and instead began to walk away, a different destination in mind. Derek heard him say something about delivering on a promise, but he had to stop paying attention to Stoneheart’s words when he was almost killed by a large stone toe.

            One of the clones picked up a car and threw it at him. Derek was able to dodge, but just barely. “Ladybug, if you’re here, I could use a little help right now!” he growled.

            “What is he waiting for?” Derek asked himself as he rolled under the feet of two of the clones, using the staff to swipe them off of their feet.

            No one answered.

*

            Stiles had run after Scott, following him as the boy raced towards the action, phone in hand and recording the entire thing.

            Scott had disappeared from his view for a moment as he rounded a corner, and as Stiles made the same turn a half a minute later, he saw Scott crouched down against the brick wall of the building off to the left. In front of him, Loup Noir was fighting against _six_ Stonehearts, barely escaping their attacks. Loup’s eyes glowed a deep angry red that even Stiles could see from far back.

            One of the clones picked up a car, and Stiles’ eyes widened in shock as the car flew over the head of Loup who ducked, and sailed right in the direction of Scott. Stiles witnessed the whole thing in slow motion: the terrified look on Scott’s face, the useless shout of, “No!” that Loup let out.

            Loup threw his staff at the car, flipping it from vertical to horizontal, but it still hit the wall where Scott had scrambled back against, trying to get away, trapping him beneath the car, between the wheels. Stiles could hear Scott shouting more in anger than in pain, so he hadn’t been killed, but he was still stuck.

            Because he’d tried to save Scott, Loup got snatched up by one of the clones, with no weapon to fight back against it with.

            Stiles could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. _Ba-bum. Ba-bum._

            Scott’s backpack fell from his numb fingers to the street. Loup struggled in the clone’s grasp, but it was no use. He shouted obscenities at it, but it paid him no mind as the group all turned, threat neutralized, and stomped down the street and away.

            Stiles’ eyes snapped over to the car where Scott had somehow managed to pull himself up, but he could only free his torso, his legs still crushed underneath the car’s weight. He groaned and shouted and screamed as he struggled, but there was nothing he could do himself.

            “Help!” Scott screamed, head thrown pack, pain obvious on his face. Stiles snapped his eyes shut, not wanting to see it. His thoughts were a whirling mess, mixing with his rapid heartbeat, creating disastrous music.

            Be safe.  _Ba-bum._ Help Scott _. Ba-bum._ Help Loup Noir. _Ba-bum._

Save the city. _Ba-bum._

            Save Boyd.

            Stiles’ eyes snapped open and all he could feel was determination. He reached for Scott’s backpack and took the box from where he’d stashed it in a side pocket.

            Abandoning the bag, Stiles quickly flicked the box open and pulled the ear cuff from it. He fit it back onto his ear, and it felt natural.

            A familiar rose ball of light appeared in front of Stiles, and he grinned as the light dimmed and Tikki uncurled herself from her hunched form, blinking wide blue eyes up at Stiles.

            “I need Ladybug,” Stiles demanded, hands curled into fists at his sides.

            Tikki looked overjoyed. “I knew you’d change your mind!”

            Stiles nodded, once. “Well, I’m still not sure I’m cut out for this. But people need help, and they need Ladybug. Scott’s in danger, and I can’t just stand around and do nothing. Tikki, transformer moi!”

            As soon as he could, as soon as the last of the transformation overcame Stiles, he bolted right for Scott and the car. He threw his yo-yo at the car, and it wrapped around from front to back. When the yo-yo came back to him, Stiles pulled with all of his might. The car shifted slightly, but it was enough for Scott to be able to wiggle himself up and out from behind the car.

            Scott looked up at him in shock from where he’d fallen to the ground.

            “Don’t stay around here,” Stiles ordered as he approached him. “It’s too dangerous,” he added as he tossed the yo-yo at Loup Noir’s abandoned staff and snatched it back into his hand.

            Without looking to see if Scott had followed his instructions to leave, Stiles threw his yo-yo onto the rooftop of the closest building and flung himself up onto it, following the path of destruction that the Stoneheart clones left behind.

            He caught up to them easily, using their heads to jump from one to the next, until he got to the one closest to the one holding Loup Noir.

            “Loup!” he cried. “Hold out your hand!”

            Thankfully, the wolf did, and Stiles threw his staff back at him, and Derek used it to pry himself from the clone’s grasp. As he fell, Stiles caught him with his yo-yo, wrapping it around him and locking it around a nearby streetlamp.

            Stiles jumped so that he landed on the street lamp, and he grinned down at Loup as he hung upside down. “Sorry for the delay,” he apologized.

            “My bug, have I ever told you how you make my heart flip upside-down?”

            Stiles rolled his eyes at the cheesy line. “Ah, you’re a flirter, aren’t you?”

            Loup shrugged (which looked odd from this angle) unapologetically.

            A roar from the clones caught their attentions and Stiles saw the clones begin to circle them. “Fancy taking the high road?” Stiles asked though it wasn’t a suggestion. “We need to get away quickly.”

            Jumping from the top of the street lamp onto the building next to its rooftop was easy. Dragging Loup Noir still wrapped up in his yo-yo wasn’t. The wolf shouted at the sudden change in direction, but Stiles was able to unlatch him from his yo-yo at that point, so Loup could use his own weapon to travel.

            “Why are we not dealing with the clones?’ Loup shouted from behind him as Stiles lead them farther away.

            Stiles glanced down at his yo-yo, which he’d flipped over to the side that opens and activated it to play a live news feed. The screen showed the akumatized Stoneheart standing in the middle of the city square atop of the capital building, police surrounding it.

            “We only need to focus on one to destroy them all,” Stiles responded, whipping around a street corner and coming to a halt. “And it’s that one.” He pointed a finger towards Stoneheart from where he stood atop the capital building, visible to them now from the rooftops as it was only a few streets away.

            The closer the duo approached, the better a look Stiles could get of the police. He spotted his père, easily, from where he stood with a few other officers, next to the maire who was holding a megaphone up to his mouth.

            “I demand you give me back my son!” Maire Whittemore projected.

            Stiles tensed and he knew exactly what was going to happen. He raced forward to try and save Jackson (ugh, even the thought left a bad taste in his mouth) from becoming part of the pavement.

            As predicted, Stoneheart responded, “With pleasure,” before tipping his arm back and throwing Jackson from the roof. Jackson screamed, muttering things, prayers, what have you, as the ground quickly rose up to meet him.

            But Stiles was faster, and he caught Jackson in his arms, centimeters from the ground.

            Jackson stared up at him in awe and shock, and Stiles set him back on his feet. He had other, more important, matters to attend to. And Jackson was hardly ever of importance. Loup appeared at his side and Stiles nodded at him.

            Stiles’ gaze snapped to his père as he heard him shout, a hand raised, “Ready your arms!”  
            “No!” Stiles yelled, and his père paused, hand not moving to give the signal. “Don’t attack him, you’ll only make him angrier!”

            Another armed officer that Stiles did not recognized rushed up to his père and stood his guard. “This is a police matter,” he spat, obviously angry. “We do not consort with superhero vigilante types. If you could fix this, then we wouldn’t even be having this problem today! Let the professionals handle it, you already failed!”

            Stiles felt like the breath was punched out of his lungs. His père even looked like he was wavering on his stance, shooting betrayed looks at Stiles and Loup Noir.

            Stiles’ gaze dropped to the ground, all of the courage and bravado he’d built up completely shattered. “He’s right,” he whispered, eyes snapping up to look at Loup Noir. “If I had just captured Stoneheart’s akuma like I was supposed to, all of this would have been over.” He covered his face with his hands, feeling utterly defeated. “I knew I wasn’t cut out to be a superhero.”

            And angry voice cut through his self-destructive thoughts. “What are you even talking about?”

            A hand cupped Stiles’ upper arm, and Stiles looked up to see Loup staring right at him, red eyes blazing. “Without you, that boy,” he turned Stiles to face Jackson who stood next to the maire, “wouldn’t even be here anymore. You did that. So pull. Yourself. Together.” With each word, Loup reinforced them with a shake of Stiles’ arm. “Without us, this will not end.” Stiles looked up at him and noted the sincerity in his voice and in his gaze. “And we’re going to prove it to them.” Loup let go of Stiles’ arm only to cup his hands around Stiles’ face. Loup’s thumb gently caressed his cheek. Stiles tried not to read too much into the gesture. “Trust me. Alright?”

            Stiles blinked once, then twice. He stepped back, Loup’s hands falling back to his sides, and took a deep breath. “Alright,” he agreed, trying to sound strong. He could do this, at least for the boy who had built him right back up after he’d been broken. He could do it for Loup.

*

            Derek was so close to just shaking his boy and shouting in his face, “How can you not see how amazing you are, and how amazing we are as a team?!”

            Ladybug had back away from his touch, but he’d agreed to finish the job. And Derek would have to take that for now. He’d shake his admiration into the boy some other time.

            A loud roar broke the moment, and they both looked up at Stoneheart who wasn’t actually yelling, but coughing. The akumatized began heavily coughing before he fell backwards, and Derek feared he would crash through the ceiling of the building from his mass.

            But it was what came _out_ of Stoneheart that worried Derek. What appeared to be millions of dark arrows seemed to sprout out of his skin, flying up into the air and then moving in a circular pattern, hovering above the building. They began to form some kind of shape, and Derek felt a jolt go through him when he realized that the form was a giant face.

            The floating head started to smile, and Derek felt a shiver roll down his spine.

            When it spoke, it’s voice sounded like it was coming from every direction, from all corners of the city. “Ladies and gentlemen, listen to me carefully. I am Argent.”

            Derek felt his heart stop in his chest. Argent? Like… _Argent_? _His_ Argent?

            He didn’t have time to think about the connections before it continued its speech. “Ladybug and Loup Noir, give me your miraculouses, the ear cuff and the ring,” it demanded, “and everything will go back to normal.”

            Derek wanted to scoff at that, because Argent was obviously lying, but he was frozen in fear.

            Argent’s villain monologue seemed far from over. “These citizens have suffered enough because of you—“

            “Nice try, Argent.”

            Derek snapped his gaze over to Ladybug, shocked at his bravery. Ladybug stepped forward with ease, not a note of fear in his steps as he approached the capital building and Argent.

            “But do not try to reverse the roles on us,” Ladybug continued. “We all know who the supervillain is here. _You_ are the one who transformed all of these innocent civilians into stone monsters.” He flung a hand out, gesturing around him at the city. “ _Argent_.” Ladybug spat the name. “It does not matter how long it takes, but we will find you, and it will be _you_ giving us _your_ miraculous!”

            Without falter, Ladybug sprung forward and ran towards the building, attaching his yo-yo to the rooftop and flinging himself up onto it. Derek watched in fascination as, just as Plagg described to him yesterday the process would go, Ladybug used his yo-yo as a weapon, slashing through the face, neutralizing every arrow as he shouted, “I am freeing you from evil, akumas!”

            Argent screamed as its face began to dissolve as Ladybug began to purify each of the evil arrows that made up its projection. Eventually, Ladybug’s power was just too strong for Argent, and the face of arrows exploded in a large burst of red light. Ladybug stumbled back down onto the rooftop, shocked out of the air because of the explosion.

            Derek felt his heart start back up again, double time, as Ladybug stood and dusted himself off, moving to stand at the edge of the roof. Ladybug didn’t need a megaphone to project his voice so that all of Balise de Collines could hear his words.

            “I am making a promise to all of you,” Ladybug declared. “Even when some try to hurt you, Ladybug and Loup Noir will do everything in their power to help you!”

            He then tossed his yo-yo up into the air, and it opened and released thousands of silver arrows that shot up into the sky, piercing the clouds, and disappearing into thin air.

            The shockwave of _good_ that came from that much purification seemed to rock the entirety of Balise de Collines. Derek felt it rock his entire being.

            “Wow,” Derek breathed, eying the beautiful boy. “It doesn’t matter who’s under that mask,” he thought aloud. “but I love him, this boy.”

*

            Stiles knew he had won that battle, but they had not yet won the war. Stoneheart and his clones were still around, Stiles had not purified that akuma. The job was not yet done, but it would be soon.

            Once again, Stiles felt that familiar rumbling, and the building began to shake under his feet. He turned to see Stoneheart getting to his feet, Erica still clasped securely in his hand. She looked okay, physically, so Stiles allowed himself to be relieved about that.

            Loup Noir once again appeared at his side, and the two shared a look, nodding at each other. Loup’s gaze was heavy, and Stiles held it for as long as he could before he broke it at the sound of Erica’s cry for help.

            “You will never take her from me!” Stoneheart roared. “Clones, attack!”

            Stiles looked towards the akumatized Stoneheart whereas Loup turned to where the stone clones were advancing on the building, one even beginning to climb it

            “Don’t hit them!” Stiles reminded him, and Loup nodded in understanding. “I think I know where the akuma is.”

            “Yeah, but how do you get him to release it?” Loup asked, eyes shifting from Stiles to the approaching threat.

            Stiles took a deep breath and started to think aloud. “It’s in his right hand, where he’s holding Erica. And Stoneheart’s motivation is to have Erica be… in love with him, or something. So…” Stiles eyes widened as an idea hit him. “Maybe instead of getting Erica away from him, we need to bring her closer!” He grinned at Loup Noir and reached out to grasp his arm. “Trust me,” he requested.

            Loup surprised him by smirking and nodding without hesitation.

            Stiles wasted no time with any more talk, running after Stoneheart where he’d just climbed from the top of the building onto the dome that towered over it, half as tall as the building itself.

            Stoneheart was large and heavy, so he was only halfway up the dome, whereas Stiles easily flipped his way to the top, balancing himself on the decorative statue that looked out over Balise de Collines.

            Erica spotted him before the akumatized did, and shouted, “Help! I’m afraid of heights!”

            The alert clued Stoneheart in on Stiles’ location, and he narrowed his glowing eyes at him.

            “Don’t worry, everything will be alright!” Stiles promised her, praying that he would be able to keep that promise.

            Loup Noir had kept his guard on the roof of the building, right at the base of the dome. The clones began to reach the top and were pulling themselves up onto the roof. “How are you planning to bring them closer than they already are?” Loup shouted to Stiles.

            “By using our powers, of course!” Stiles declared. Throwing his yo-yo into the air, he shouted, “Lucky Charm!” and watched as the magic from his miraculous created a parachute that dropped into his hands.

            “A parachute?’ Stiles asked himself. “What do I do with this?” He shook his head. He didn’t have time to ponder over what he needed to do with it, so he just shrugged it on like a backpack.

            “Are you sure you can control your power?” Loup shouted up at him, apparently having heard his comment.

            “I guess we’ll just have to see, then won’t we,” Stiles snarked back. Loup smirked up at him. “Get ready, Loup Noir!”

            Stiles swung his yo-yo around above his head before releasing it, wrapping it around Stoneheart’s hand and back. He then pulled, like he had done with the car, only this time he was bringing the two forces closer together.

            Stoneheart looked shocked and surprised at the sudden turn in events, and Stiles took advantage of that hesitation to pull, bringing the akumatized’s hand up to his face, pressing Erica against Boyd in a mock of a kiss. True love’s kiss saves all, right?

            Stoneheart, having gotten what he’d wanted, at least in the view of the akuma’s objective, immediately dropped Erica from his grasp. But he also dropped the akuma. Erica latched onto the stone fingers, clinging on for dear life, but clinging on none the less. A purple-black object fell from Stoneheart’s hand, and Stiles watched it fall.

            Loup took his cue perfectly as if he’d read Stiles’ mind, running after the akuma and using his staff to bat it out of the air and up towards Stiles.

            Stiles snatched it out of the air. It looked just as it had yesterday, a crumpled up piece of stained paper. He smashed it in his hand, and a scarily familiar black arrow shot out of it.

            Now prepared, Stiles let the arrow fly for just a moment before whipping his yo-yo around, prepared to purify it so that it could never come back to haunt Boyd or Balise de Collines again. But a shout stayed his hand.

            The transformation fell away from Boyd, stone becoming black smoke that drift away on the breeze, and he could no longer keep his grip on the building or on Erica. They both fell, bypassing the dome completely, bodies hurtling towards the asphalt below.

            Stiles had to think fast. “Loup,” he shouted, hoping the wolf boy was paying attention. With the parachute firmly secured around his shoulders, Stiles took a running leap off of the dome and jumped, chasing after the two falling teenagers. “Get Boyd!” he instructed.

            Stiles distantly heard a shout of, “Apocaloups!” and hoped to god that his quickly thought-out plan would work.

            Stiles chase after Erica, yo-yo at the ready. As soon as Stiles reached Erica and wrapped an arm around her waist, he threw his yo-yo up into the air in the direction of the akuma, capturing it in the swing.

            Erica deployed the parachute for him at his insistence, and as soon as the ladybug-pattered parachute was deployed, their decent slowed exponentially. Stiles and Erica landed safely on the ground, not a scratch on either of them

            Glancing up, Stiles noted that Loup had managed to break off one of the pillars that decorated the outside of the building with his ability, which made it fall horizontal, a perfect perch for Loup Noir to reach out and snag Boyd by the wrist. Stiles locked eyes with Loup, and what he saw in that gaze made his breath hitch, in a good way.

            Stiles raised a finger and pressed down on the center of the yo-yo, like he had just a little earlier, and released the single, purified arrow that shot right up into the sky, and disappeared in the clouds.

            He shrugged off the deflated parachute, packed it back into its backpack, and tossed that into the sky with a shout of, “Miraculous Ladybug!” It exploded in a flash of pink light, and a shockwave emitted from it that spread across the entire city. Stiles watched in amazement as all around him, everything shifted back to normal. The capital building was restored, the cracked sidewalks cleared over as if newly paved, flipped cars righted themselves, the stone clones changed back into normal people. All across the city, wrong were righted. And Stiles was amazed to realize that that was because of him.

            Loup Noir appeared behind him, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. Stiles reached back to cover Loup’s hand with his own, and smiled back at him in relief.

            After that, it was like the entire city took a deep breath and released it. The police began to clean up their blockades, and people who had stopped to watch began to head back to their intended destinations. Stiles almost reached out to his père, but stopped himself at the last minute. He would see him later at their maison. Besides, he had to keep his identity a secret.

            Boyd seemed not to know what to do, slowly backing away like he was going to run. Well, not on Stiles’ watch.

            Stiles pulled out the object that had been used to akumatize Boyd from his belt’s side pouch and flattened out the paper. He passed it to Erica after a cursory read and said, “Maybe you should read this. I think it will make you both happy.”

            Erica’s brows furrowed, but she took the paper anyway, brown eyes scanning the page quickly. Her breath hitched, and Stiles watched with a small smile as she threw herself into Boyd’s arms, crushing the large boy in a hug. If Stiles didn’t know any better, he would say that Boyd blushed.

            “Looks like they really are made for each other,” Stiles commented to Loup as he stood back and watched the two teenagers whisper things to each other.

            “Yeah.” Loup reached out a hand towards Stiles. “Just like the two of us.”

            Before his hand made contact with Stiles, Loup’s ring began to beep, and Stiles curled his fingers around his wrist, stopping it centimeters from Stiles’ skin.

            “Your miraculous! You have to go!” he stuttered quickly, not wanting to deal with whatever flirtations Loup was going to try on him. Stiles turned his back on him so that if ( _if_ , notice the if) he was blushing, Loup would not see. “Go on. See you later, Loup Noir!”

            “I cannot wait, my bug,” Stiles heard softly from behind as he took off running.  

*

            Derek and Laura sat on one side of the kitchen table while their mère sat on the other. She had a stern look on her face, and Derek expected the worst when she opened her mouth.

            “Derek, you disobeyed me, and that is not something I can tolerate. So that école? You will not be attending—“

            Derek’s shoulders slumped.

            “—without your sœur.”

            Derek snapped his head up and over, wide gaze on Laura who sat staring straight ahead, ignoring his gaze. A grin grew slowly on his face.

            His mère looked amused, but continued. “I expect the both of you to look after one another. Your schedule has been altered to work around école, but I still expect for you to attend all of your tutoring and extracurricular activities. You will continue, the both of you, with your Polish language lessons a well as karate three times a week. Do I make myself clear?”

            “Yes, Manam!” Derek shouted, running around the table and pulling her into a quick hug. “Yes, Maman, thank you, Maman!”

            Derek bolted for his room to collect his école stuff, ignoring Laura’s laughter behind him. He didn’t want to be late for his second-first day!

*

            “By the time I got on my bike and got to the capital, everything was over!” Scott complained to Stiles as they walked up the steps of the institut. “It was infuriating!”

            “You’ll get another chance,” Stiles consoled him, patting his ami on the shoulder. “Ladybug is still around, right?”

            Scott grinned, determination gleaming in his eyes. “Right. Maybe next I can get an exclusive interview with Ladybug!”

            Stiles tried to act as ecstatic for his ami as he could, but in reality he was holding back laughter. “Oooh, I can’t wait to read that!” he managed to say with some sincerity.

            Scott wasn’t paying much attention to him anyway as he continued into the institut without looking back at Stiles. “Or! Or I can figure out who is under the mask!”

            Stiles almost tripped at that. “I wish you luck on that one,” Stiles told him after righting himself, chuckling.

            The pair made their way to the classroom, Stiles following Scott. As they entered the room, Stiles held out a hand, stopping Scott from heading towards their seats. Stiles shook his head and said, “Nope. Come with me.”

            Scott grinned up at him and they both went up the second row and sat down in the empty seats, Stiles settling back into his old spot with ease.

            Jackson and Lydia walked into the room not a minute later, hand in hand, but the smile on Jackson’s face melted away to a scowl when he saw that his seat had been taken. “Hey!” he shouted at them. “Sit somewhere else, you two.”

            “The only thing that lets evil prevail is the inaction of good men,” Stiles quoted with a smirk, enjoying the way Jackson’s face grew tomato red.

            “What does that even mean?” Jackson grit out between his teeth. Lydia scoffed and rolled her eyes, obviously done with the conversation.

            “It means, _Jackson_ , that we’re not going to let you push us around anymore. Not me, Scott, or anyone else in here.” Stiles stood, courage filling him to the brim. “So for starters, you are going to enjoy the pleasure of sitting somewhere else!”

            Without anywhere else to go and nothing else to do except physically move Stiles (which he would never waste his strength on someone he felt was so _inferior_ to him), Jackson stomped over to where Stiles and Scott had sat the day before.

            Lydia caught Stiles’ eye and smirked at him, giving him an appreciative once over. She hummed, shrugged, and took her seat next to Jackson without complaint.

            Stiles took his seat, feeling victorious for the first time in eight years. He’d finally won against Jackson. He did save the guy’s life, after all, it was bound to happen sometime.

            But like all victories, this one had to end, and it was punctuated when the Hale twins skidded into class followed my Mlle Morrell. The two took their seats in front of Stiles and Scott, and Stiles scowled at the back of Derek’s head.

            Derek turned and smiled at Stiles, but Stiles turned away, still pissed at the guy. Any ami of Jackson’s was not an ami of his. He thought he may have heard a sigh from Derek, but then Laura was whispering something to him, and Mlle Morrell began rollcall, so the soft exhale was drowned out.

*

            In Balise de Collines, when it rains, it pours. Stiles was hoping that the rain would let up soon so that he could walk back to his maison without getting completely drenched. He’d not checked the weather report this morning, so he wasn’t prepared with an umbrella or anything. His thin hoodie wasn’t good at keeping rain out.

            Scott had left over five minutes ago, when the rain wasn’t quite as heavy, wanting to get back before the worst of it hit. Stiles should have just left with him. He may have gotten soaked, but at least he’d be warming up at his maison by now.

            “I’ll go bring the car around,” Stiles heard someone say behind him.

            He turned to look behind him, back into the institut. He was standing right outside of the entrance, where he’d been admiring the rain under the safe awning of the institut’s front entrance.

            Derek and Laura Hale were approaching, Laura twirling a ring of keys around a finger and Derek looking suitably put-out as he passed the umbrella in hands from hand to hand. Only then did Derek look up and spot him. Stiles turned away with a huff, not at all curious as to why it was Laura who got to drive rather than Derek.

            Laura passed by on his right, her own umbrella opening with a ‘floof’ as she jogged down the steps and off down the road to where she must have parked. Derek took her place a second later, identical umbrella opening with ease as he raised it above his head. Stiles noticed him out of the corner of his eye; Derek was standing right next to him.

            The rain pelted heavily down around them, drowning out the silence.

            “Hey,” Derek attempted a greeting, but Stiles still wasn’t having any of it. Being Ladybug had filled him with a confidence he hadn’t even known he could possess. So he was done bowing down to connards like Jackson, done with people stepping all over him, done with the pranks and the—

            “I wanted you to know that yesterday… I was just trying to clean up the mess Jackson made.”

            Stiles looked up, brown eyes meeting hazel, and his widened a pinch at the sincerity in Derek’s expression. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

            “It’s true.”

            Derek almost looked sad about it, like he was upset that Stiles even thought that he could be capable of doing something Jackson-esque.

            “I’ve never been to real école before. Not lycée, at least. It’s been too long for me to remember… I couldn’t make amis, being in école à la maison. Everything here, it’s—it’s practically brand new for me.” Derek shrugged, like that was all he had to say.

            But Stiles wasn’t ready for Derek to stop speaking. Ever since the boy had opened his mouth, the truth had spilled out. And Stiles could tell it was the truth. From the way Derek’s voice shook slightly taking about école à la maison, it felt too real to be a lie. It had been a long time since Stiles had met someone who seemed genuine (besides Scott, of course). Someone who he, honestly, found attractive.

            Derek moved suddenly, and he raised his umbrella from hovering over his own head to over Stiles’. Stiles’ breath hitched. His gaze moved from Derek’s eyes, to his hand, to the umbrella, back to Derek’s face.

            A small smile played on Derek’s lips, and Stiles realized that Derek was offering his umbrella to Stiles.

            Stiles visibly sucked in a breath. _Merde_. He had a crush on Derek.

            Fingers slightly shaking because of the cold, Stiles hesitantly raised his hand out towards the handle of the umbrella. Derek had large hands, ones that took up almost the entirety of the handle. Their fingers brushed as the umbrella exchanged hands, and Stiles had to stop himself from gasping out loud. Derek was warm to the touch, and where his fingers had trailed against Stiles’, the skin tingled.

            Stiles pulled the umbrella closer to himself, eyes locked with Derek’s. Stiles’ thumb ran over the bumps in the handle absentmindedly, thumb tripping over a raised point. Then Derek disappeared from his sight, Stiles jumping as the umbrella closed on his head.

            A stifled snort, and then loud, happy laughter escaped Derek. Stiles pulled the black flaps of the umbrella away from his face specifically to look and see what a happy Derek looked like. The boy’s eyes were squinted half-shut, laughter lines crinkling at the edges. His smile was wide and bright, and Stiles noticed a stray raindrop in the dark scruff on Derek’s cheek.

            Stiles began to laugh at himself, chuckling lightly as he popped the umbrella back open, making sure to move his thumb away from the opening and closing mechanism.

            Derek soon contained his laughter, and Stiles could hear a car idling by the curb. How long had Laura been waiting, Stiles wondered.

            Derek looked up at him with that same, happy, genuine smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice soft. Derek turned, heading towards his waiting sœur.

            Stiles nodded belatedly, stuttering over his words as he said, “Yeah, I’ll uh, see you morrowto, er, tomoto, no— why am I stuttering?” he asked himself.

            Tikki giggled from the inside of Stiles’ hoodie, and Stiles peeked into it to see her smiling up at him. “I have a little idea as to why,” she teased, flying up towards his face. Stiles felt his cheeks flame up and he chased his little kwami to get back into his hoodie.

*

            Derek was glad that he could see Laura keeping herself busy on her phone, because that way she didn’t see when Plagg flew out from his perch inside of Derek’s leather jacket to tease him. “It’s your first day of école and you’ve already got a copain.”

            Derek scoffed, steps halting slightly as he responded. “Don’t be silly, Plagg, he’s just an ami.” Derek almost slipped on his next step when he realized what he’d just said. “An ami,” he sighed happily to himself, feeling his cheeks warm at the happy reminder.

            He looked over his shoulder, back at Stiles, and felt the smile on his face grow wider.

*

            “You chose well, Master.”

            The old man raised his head from where he had it ducked under his umbrella, watching the two teenagers, to look up at his kwami. His miraculous on his wrist rattled as he shifted the umbrella in his hand.

            The old man smiled and told him simply, “Those two are made for each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's more of this insanity on my tumblr at redhoodedwolf
> 
> Vocabulary Index:  
> Papa/Père- father  
> commissaire de police- A commissary has both an administrative role and an investigative role. The commissaire also has judicial powers which police officers in English-speaking countries do not have. (from Wikipedia)  
> Fils- son  
> Balise de Collines- Beacon Hills  
> Lycée- high school (ages 15-18)  
> École- school  
> Institut- school building  
> Connard- asshole/shithead  
> professeur - teacher  
> Copine- girlfriend  
> meilleur ami- best friend  
> Copain- boyfriend  
> École primaire- Primary School (ages 6-11)  
> Mademoiselle (Mlle)- Miss  
> Maman/mère- mother  
> Frère- brother  
> Élèves- students  
> Ami- friend  
> Bibliothèque- library  
> Hôpital- hospital  
> Infirmière- nurse (en chef means head, so head nurse)  
> maison- home  
> école à la maison- homeschool  
> Fille- daughter  
> Amis- friends  
> Sœur- sister  
> Maire- mayor  
> Je t'aime mon fils.- I love you, my son.  
> transformer moi!- transform me!  
> Merci- thank you  
> Sixième- grade for 11-12 year olds  
> Collège- Junior High School  
> Merde- shit


End file.
